Fate or Choice?

She came again today. Went from cubicle to cubicle, emptying the rubbish bins. Her mouth was full of betel leaves. I turned to look and acknowledge her presence but she never looked up. Not at me, not at anyone else.

I saw her again, mopping the toilet floor and then wiping the department glass panes. Not even once she looked at anyone directly in the eye. She was not alone. There were many more.

It just gives me a tiny slicing pain in my heart to see her everyday. That is the precise time when i feel the weight in my heart. Only when she leaves, i actually realise that i was gripping my hands together tightly.

Sigh! How long more do Indians need to go collect rubbish and clean other people's mess? HOW LONG MORE????