To the selfless creator ...

I saw her toddler playing in the soil

Shoveled up by the excavators groaning in the vicinity…

She was lost in carefully sieving the sand

Heaped up beside her… which seemed like a never ending task…

May be the man hauling the bricks to the construction site is her husband…

I caught a glance of him once … helping her lift the heavy sand container…

And once playfully pinching the cheeks of the child so happy to have found a toy car in the earth…

There are these buildings I see, standing tall and almost done

And around them I see loads of material and metal

A number of supply vehicles and tools

I see people in crisp clothing discussing the design and aesthetics of the housing complex

I imagine many families dreaming of moving into these apartments

Parents and kids, kids and parents, newly married and soon to be married.

They must be happy about their new homes… much better than what they are leaving in right now.

More space for the new furniture, clothes, food, toys and happy moments.

Here, it seems, they have a playground and a pool, shops and a cinema hall

Club for happy gatherings and restaurants for celebrations

They will live here like they have lived all these years in their dreams…

Far but not out of sight is the picture not so good

Temporarily made slum like dwellings cover up the area along the tall building

The roofs made up of plastic sheets face the wrath of the nasty wind…

There are a handful of things strewn around in that single room

And there are no colors on the walls or tiles in the floor

There don’t seem to be any cabinets to store valuables

There doesn’t seem to be any provision to hang a happy picture of the poor family

They can’t have many belongings

They will have to move away from this site to another

From one town to another

This undone house will then be demolished

And a way would be made to the grand building behind…

There is a handmade three-stone stove is in the front…

She cooks for her husband here …

And serves it to him when he walks back home after his day’s work

Tired and his hands sore carrying the stones and watering the concrete walls

And for her child who is coated in red mud now,

Who will sleep and wake up tomorrow in the same state  

And for herself, who hasn’t really been able to sieve out the suffering

And has not been able to hold on to the grains of lifeless sand running out of her hands…

Houses over houses for the richer people they have created

And selflessly made their dreams come true

But what a tragedy … they could never think of house of their own

They just could not build a happy home of their own…