History will Repeat

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(Photo credit: http://www.123rf.com/stock-photo/old_beggar.html?mediapopup=10434875 )

An old woman walked along the pavement
Frail, yet, her eyes darting restlessly
Bewildered and stricken, searching uselessly
For those familiar and comforting silhouettes

Soft wrinkly skin, and in crisp cotton raiment
Shining streaks of silver hair, and face turbulent
Probing eyes meet no familiar visage, and
Weakened ears hear no familiar voice

Her lips quiver, and her hands tremble
Her voice quavers, and silent tears tumble
An icy numbness envelopes. Am I lost?
Where am I? And my loved ones??

She sighs and a scary thought fleets in
Am I going to be alone from now???
Her legs shiver, and breath arduous
An inky darkness envelops around…

One more has joined the crowd
Of aged ones, touted as burdens at homes
Insecurities of life will rally around
Alas! Who can do this to Dads and Moms?

For one day tables will turn.
And you will be at the receiving end
And that day will bring floods of remorse
Of a similar act. Ah! History repeats.
(Written after reading about the sad tales of the aged folks, discarded and abandoned by their near and dear in the temple town of Guruvayur, Kerala.)
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