Sonder (n). the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as

your own

a crowded, rambling street, beggars with

blood-stained beards and trembling children

with snot-encrusted fingers reaching

out for ten rupees. heart blooming with pity,

i plunge my fingers into my back pockets, hoping

that i just bought them a meal. a girl

with gleaming hair and a sexy car bends over

the steering wheel, while girls with babies slung

over their necks peer in, tapping

the tinted windows. showing a malnourished baby

barely conscious, puckered lips and bones poking out

of scabbing skin. they curse when the window doesn’t

open, when a manicured knuckle doesn’t reach out,

resist the temptation to pelt that sleazy vehicle with rocks

and watch bits fall off in a bloody skirmish.

Earlier that week, she had watched her father lose

his lifelong battle, her sister run out of tears and be left

with nothing more than a weary sigh. but they didn’t

know, to them she was an overfed, slinky brat enmeshed in the

trappings of luxury. she steps out of the car five hours later,

sees yolk trickling down its sides, the back window

smashed into splinters, silver scratches against the

vibrant pink backdrop. she knows that the universe

is conspiring against her, tries to kill herself. the

atmosphere is infused with hate. sonder is a

beautiful word.