Couple of years ago we had gone for a drive outside the city. It was a semi village semi town like area, near the railway station……with farm fields nearby.
And there were yellowish tall buildings. They actually had a flood the previous year and it was bad!!
The ground floors of all the buildings got submerged under water and had water marks on the walls. Scary!
Suddenly after all these years I remembered the buildings……….and what might have been the story of the apartments.
But I think things are much better now economically, with builders buying lands from the locals and constructing highrisers.
The houses look a lot like the image I found somewhere on google.
Teeny tiny wet drizzles,
Yet the sun glares on the land like a swizzle.
Hustling and bustling on the nearby railway tracks,
All in all its a bright damp day at the shacks.
Monotonous chores, monologue dreams around the clock,
Same old rusty garage and dusty market down the block.
Stained old pink sofas and socks on the floor,
Mamma rattling the utensils in the cramped kitchen, hoping for some windfall at the door.
Elder sister hiding the poverty under layers of powder,
Trying to hit it off with the guy at the garage who works as her dad’s junior.
Little sister prepping hard for the maths test next day,
She knows its the only way.
Bagging a job, getting a status and making it big,
Its no easy gig, one wrong step and everything could crumble like a twig.
Garage owner’s daughter says that poor get a job, gets disillusioned by money and spread corruption,
Maybe, but the rich too are no exclusion, creating their own disruption.
But she’s going to be one of a kind,
Helping herself and the blind.
And when everything seems peachy and creamy,
She’ll take off on a holiday to a land filled with cherry.
That’s all folks,
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