It Troubles Me

by Hanzala Bin Aman

No, this lack of desire
doesn’t trouble me,
neither does lack of luxury.
Or the lack of big villas
and fancy cars.
nor does the lack of
branded shoes and clothes.

You know what troubles me;
when I am unable to see the contrast
between the dry breast of a mother
and the black lips of her starving child.
So common they are, in color, in shape.
Black and deformed.

It troubles me when I see
arms of an underfed child
Not so slender
but just like a bony stick
attached to a scare crow.

It troubles me when I see
tanks of water being wasted
to shine those marble floors
and that smelly little girl in torn clothes
has the tongue turned white without water.

It troubles me when I see cars
passing from those slums windows packed
to save themselves from foul smell
and begging children.
It troubles me when they
don’t give a shit.
It troubles me when I see
children not playing games.
Not that they are not interested in,
but because they don’t have
strength to.

It troubles me when children
do not cry because of hunger,
when they don’t weep
just because they don’t have tears
to shed.
And because, weeping would
starve them more.
It troubles me
when vultures have so much
to feed upon.
And the image of God,
The man has nothing.

It troubles me
and at most it troubles me
when it doesn’t trouble you.

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