The Tourist.

Once I saw a man,

He was holding a camera in his hands,

Snapping away at everything that crossed his path,

When our eyes met,

He stared at my small frame,

Wide eyed he raised his frames,

I pulled mama’s dress and asked,

“Mama, who is that man”

“A Tourist ,” She said.

“They come to our country to see wild animals”,

“What happened to their animals, ” I asked.

“Dont stare, sit properly and smile”, She said


But I continued to stare,

Wondering why was he taking pictures of me,

When he didn’t even know my name.