Jasmine Flower Seller

A boy ran Towards a van, Holding out his hand Full of fragrant Jasmine flowers Strung on a thread. A lady beckoned And began to haggle Over the price. The boy said Five stings For Rupees ten. She pushed away His hand, The boy Lost his balance, And fell. Tears welled up In his eyes, As he saw the wheels, Crush his hope Of a square meal. The drizzle Had turned to a shower. The road was covered With crushed flowers. The boy had perhaps Come from a distant village, To earn an honest wage. We spend thousands Over what we fancy On discount sales Happy we have got A bargain. Why do we haggle Over pennies?