The Stranger

By Aishani Arpita Bhattacharya

It was a torrential day of downpour,

With rather erratic gusty winds.

Drenched under the scarlet sky,

Stood a blessing in disguise.

Gently he rang the bell,

Under the flickering fluorescent neon lamp,

No one had come to the door,

But he wasn’t of the impatient type.

He turned away from the door, all alone again,

He attempted to seek help that no one would give him.

Tired he slinked down along the footsteps under a tree,

This is where, he figured, he would die, passively.

He was an orphan, all sick and abandoned now.

And made his own living by selling milk from a cow.

Now that he had no means of sustenance, this was his last day.

He had been surviving on nothing for almost six days.

He turned away and felt the drops of rain on his face,

Not feeling any anguish, but rather embraced.

Embraced he had the chance to live, the chance to see.

How unbelievably different humans turned out to be.

He reflected on how everyone had treated him

Ever since he was small, he was considered a sin.

With no fault of his own, he came into the world alone.

And now it’s inevitable that he should die alone.

His eyes closed off, and then almost entered an eternal sleep,

Suddenly the neighbors surrounded him, noticing the tree

And what sat under it, an unconscious freezing boy.

But the next time the boy woke up, he saw a woman with tears of joy.

The stranger smiled a heartfelt smile, and he felt something never before,

Someone took care of him, a stranger with a heart of gold,

He had never felt so loved or recognized.

Years later, he was still a part of her family and deemed prized.

By Aishani Arpita Bhattacharya