India, Oct. 14 -- But I could not get the image of the blue dairy, and the beggar's wrinkled face and painful eyes out of my mind. Her eyes spoke so much about her life.

One afternoon at a busy railway station, at the corner, I saw an old woman. She was wearing a multicolored saree tattered from every corner and soaked in dirt. Her hair was frizzy and appeared to be dirty. Her face showed the hard wrinkled journey of her life, and eyes carried the stillness of an ocean.

Someone had given her a piece of bread which she was gorging very quickly. After finishing it, she wiped her hands and mouth with her saree. There was a tea stall at a distance, which she stared at with lustful eyes for a while. Seeing no hope of getting a cup of tea, sh...