India shining(III)

I am back with the India shining...Here it goes.

Sparkling when the spot light,
Falls on those few drops,
Which still are waiting to dry up,
On the dry parched cheeks,
Making themselves comfortable,
Under the hollow of the eyes,
Hiding beneath the dark circles,
Of pain, age and time,
Picking food from the garbage pile,
Hungry eyes wandering,
Through the maze of people,
Gazing deeply into the crevices,
Where the moss grows,
Searching for a trickle of water,
That might wash away the grime and dirt,
Clinging to the throat, body
The heart and soul...
Behind the curtains,
Where the delicate dreams,
Are bought and sold,
The carnal pleasures drawn out,
The innocence weeded out,
To let the earth bear practical fruits,
The dead light in the morning eyes,
The cold blanket of the night skies,
Still shimmer in the spot light,
When it falls on those few drops,
Which trickle out once a while,
Staying,
suffering,
smiling and dying...