An Incomplete Question

He played with a candy wrapper , when ever I saw him.
He did not feel embarrassed to roam around with his naked upper body
He had a genuine smile on his face , a face that was not washed in days.
The crowd passing by always smiled back at him.
What else would a kid demand; than a little happiness from every person that he looks at ?

I have seen his mother , who sits at the start of the stairs.
I have noticed her every evening ; raising her hand for alms.
Some people ignored her , some threw a penny or two 
She never appreciated the gesture or rudeness from the crowd.
She lived there with her son ; a place sheltered by the passing crowd.

One day , I saw the boy sleeping on his mother's lap.
His face reflected silence as if there is no tomorrow for the world.
But my surprised mind blocked my walk further;
I stood there to witness a Mother using her son as a prop for corpse.
Her face was flawless with emotions of sorrow.

I was there with so many questions , when the mother saw me .
She displayed no signs of recognizing me.
She raised her hands and continued her action for alms.

I thought to approach them , but my body opposed my thoughts .

For a moment I thought about her fight for survival , the next moment I was bit by her sin towards her son.

I returned home that day, with an incomplete question , Can a Mother ... ?

                                                                     ~Abhi