The untouchables
The old ,
The widows living a life
As if residing in prisons
Yes ,I had witnessed a group of them
Going back as they were
After prayers In Mathura from a temple
To their abode
Which was an ill lit building
Bald heads ,white sarees
Spelling their doomed state
I tried to start a conversation
But they had nothing to say
Giving me a vacant look
They walked away
One of them
Seemed to have some life left
I approached her
And she softly related
The hardships they faced
As they remained caged
To the mercy of few moneyed
Who used them
And their conditions
To convert their funds
To charitable trusts ….
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