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THE INVISIBLE WOMAN

We are all sons,
And we’re all daughters,
As we pass by
the Invisible Woman.

“Son?”
“Son?”
“Daughter?”
“Son?”

She sits there on the steps
And calls out in her feeble voice.
She thinks we can hear her,
the Invisible Woman.

She stretches her arm towards us,
As if we would give her alms.
She thinks we can see her,
the Invisible Woman.

We don’t hear or see her!
And her camouflage? Clever!
She pretends to be human,
Just like the rest of us!

“Son?”
“Son?”
“Daughter?”
“Son?”

We aren’t related to her,
She’s got it all wrong.
She should call us “stranger”,
She isn’t our mother!

We are all sons,
And we’re all daughters,

And we’re all deaf

As we pass by
the Invisible Woman.

– – –

On the steps of Jama Masjid, New Delhi, August 2013

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