When I turned around, a small child did I see
He pointed to a fireworks stall and asked me to visit it please
I frowned in the gentle autumn breeze
I’ve already brought my fireworks I said roughly I don’t need anymore
I turned around and walked away never seeing the tears that did flow
I didn’t even known his name was Ramesh, his age was seven, I didn’t care
But at night peacefully I slept after my dinner and a prayer
In my dreams I walked in his shoes
God’s way to help me choose
He was only seven
When his Father left them
How he cried when he worked his first day in the cracker factory
How day and night he slumped into bed in a hungry and exhausted sleep
How he worked for twelve hours non stop
How he was made to exert till from exhaustion he dropped
Silent child, tears of silver
Won’t someone ever come near?
Mothers touch oft forgotten
Life is but a ball of cotton
How did fate deal him such a bad hand
This is something Ramesh will never understand
Here we cry if we don’t get into McDonalds and for money is what we pray
Ramesh would be lucky to get a Sunday off and a square meal a day
There was a fire in his factory which almost burnt him to death
Brave lad, he never wept
Simply got salves on his hand to stop the pain for a while
Started working the next day but he couldn’t smile
He sees many men getting rich off his hard work
Is their any justice in the world?
So many children like Ramesh are made to work in the Sivakasi fireworks factory, this Diwali remember them before you light a fire cracker, it may have been made with their hard work, the profits of which they will never see in their life time because it will be swallowed by greedy business men and fat politicians.
by Rahul
Home Town Chennai, Tamil Nadu
Country, India
Email: rahul.gomez@gmail.com
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