He stood for hours in the long queues,

worked incessantly to improve his credentials,

You didn’t give him the opportunity because

Being your son is all that’s essential .

 

He thought his merit would suffice

And that he would succeed soon,

Little did he know how much you prioritized

Your son born with a silver spoon.

 

He toiled and refined his skills

But your son was more qualified for you.

He carried society’s enervating ills

On his moiled shoulders with a smile.

 

He thought he’d get the job,

But you didn’t give him the role.

Leaving him crippled and doubtful

And parching his soul.

 

He worked on himself,

to reach where he deserved to be,

But He felt put on the shelf

As He cried himself to sleep.

 

He thought of himself as inferior

But decided not give up

For he wasn’t as weak as your son

To feel defeated by your wind up.

 

He decided to be self made

And worked tirelessly

And without your aid,

He performed terrifically well.

 

He strived to achieve his goal ,

His accomplishments made him proud

And watered his parched soul

He was happy, for once.

 

But he was a threat to your son,

How could you not suppress him?

After all, he was an outsider in “your” industry

Isn’t that enough of a sin?

 

He endlessly looked for work

But his positions were taken away

For he made his own path

And for them, you created the way.

 

He sweated to survive your repression,

And struggled against your unjust steps

And gave it in to depression,

He started questioning himself.

 

He tried to voice his opinion,

But so many were teamed up against him.

He feebly looked for support

but y’all smiled a ruthless grin.

 

He decided to enter a space

Where his mother, his only guardian, was there,

The only one who would wipe tears off his face

The beating of his heart ceased.

 

And then you cried fake sympathy

And acted like you cared

But deep down you know

Because of you, he despaired.

 

I just have a small question,

Your response would’ve been the same,

You would’ve pushed him into death,

If he shared your last name?

 

– Sanjali Sharma, Amity International School, Noida

 

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