He was walking down the dusty lanes
Barefooted in torn clothes
His feet survived the scorching sun and the heavy rains
Effortlessly walking on hilly terrains and sharp stones.
He explores garbage like an excavating archeologist
He travels; different street and different places
With his plastic bag on daily basis.
He is a sweet innocent nine year old
For him the books didn’t glitter like gold
Skinny and weak he looked
No food no water, nothing was there to be cooked.