Till the Next Date

She sat on a bench outside the courtyard,

An old little lady with a blue-coloured bag,

Almost in her seventies, frail and weak,

Carrying a stack of files, labelled and tagged,

I saw her every now and then,

With around twelve years passing this way,

Moving through the corridors of this court,

With her eyes saying, “justice will be delivered today!”

She often carried her medication with her,

Should the hearings take place too late,

And often was told these things take time,

To be patient, to believe, to wait.

Sitting at the bench outside the courtyard,

She waited for hours to be told,

That her case was placed for a later date,

And her pension was still on hold.

And with every passing date she waited,

her conviction grew more strong,

that her pension would be released today,

That the wait would not be more long.

And with time, she knew not when this belief of hers,

Had overtaken the rationality of her mind,

For now she was obsessed with the case,

And could not leave her past behind.

It’s the fifth anniversary of her death today,

And I feel really sad for her plight,

But I am certain I won’t meet the same fate,

For even my pension is denied.

I have been told in confidence by my lawyers,

That the strongest arguments have been made,

And that it’s not too long that an order is passed,

I just need to wait till the next date.