Poverty pushed people from rural to urban centers. Seeking job and accepting to work in below standard work places. The push from their roots, had many reasons but all were rooted in poverty. Same happened to those who joined the garments factory. That dark moment, when fire engulfed and the collapsible doors were shut by the orders of the supervisor, a mother watched her daughter burned alive in the flames but couldn’t safe her child, she nurtured and loved.The son who called his mother before he got burned,told her he loved her but this is his last call, that mother still hears her son crying, the wife who kept waiting for her husband to return, only got news of his tragic end…the children who wanted to see the last remains of their parents,were shown charred bodies..will they ever regain .

The agony of losing a loved one is tragic and the agony of helplessness is a torture, how long will this haunt the minds.How many nightmares they will see and cry. Will teas dry and heart stop to feel..what a plight for those who are poor.Their life has a price and move forward.No remorse , no punishment, no change just the same..born free and priceless souls,but death for them has retold a story of misery and unjust hold.

Silence…and nothing more 



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