i looked to my right
i looked to my left
i even tried looking behind...
what's it to look forward
when all directions
appear hazy...?
i sit outside your
corrugated iron bars
with an empty bottle and
heaps of debris in front
a broken toy i found somewhere
spilled colors in my small hand
can anyone tell me
where i belong to?
there is much to explore but in this world itself orphaned, these explorations may turn into endless echoes....and in the same song every body starts differentiating A child of the road I am also of the same God.
(The night was dark, no father was there; /the child was wet with dew; /The mire was deep, n the child did weep, /and away the vapour flew./) a sad commentary on the plight of orphans...in a stratified society, where wealth rules, n theunprotected is bound to go to the wall....
yes, aman...we r all of the same god...disparity is god's way!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
OH indira ji...beautiful at once you conjured up the site of the pathetic little boy sitting with a crushed old paper can on top of a Rio shanty…(the cartoon movie RIO) ….CGI sheet and empty soda packs all…. you’ve painted the whole scene in 32k ….. vivid and painful, just the parakeets are missing…. Although a common sight in our impoverished home waters, still hurts and you have done it very well indeed cheers