She sat quietly on the floor with knees raised.
Neatly dressed in a saree, she was stranded in Dadar Station.
She looked calm and quiet, with no tears in her eyes
For the weight of the world
Lay not on her shoulders.
From Delhi, she had come to see her son in Bombay.
Her Bombay son, an alcoholic and a rough guy
Took all her money and threw her out of the house.
When the lady reporter asked her
Whether she had food to eat,
She showed her a small bowl of rice and dhal
And a tiny packet of biscuits.
Leelawtee had another son in Delhi
And she wasn’t sure he would allow her in
For he believed that she was mad.
She looked at the sky and softly said,
‘My husband was a very good man.’
Leelawtee thought of her three children
Whom she had rocked in the cradle
And the way she and her husband had worked hard
To make both ends meet.
Finally, with the help of the government,
A small family comprising of a young man,
His wife and son adopted her
And brought her home to live with them.