Distress call from the old parents,
Too frightened of their young chicks,
They have painted themselves,
With new colorful cultural shades,
Not ashamed of uttering foul words,
Mostly have four letters as the nails,
Going out at nights as the days are dark,
Inside the curtained high rise cubicles,
Binging and dating are common scenes,
The educational huts are the training grounds,
Sometimes where the lifelong love may bloom,
The eyeliners of the young boys with husky voice,
The imperfect body of the pencil thin lasses,
They will overcome all these cultural mishap,
Once they become the responsible parents,
They too get worried of their new young chicks.
They too will bug their children’s smart phones,
They too will have sleepless days and nights,
They too will have their hearts broken into pieces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem