Among the teeming thousands
In the bustling city of Delhi,
An ordinary looking, wide-eyed, thin man with curly hair and pointed nose,
An all-seeing camera in his back-pack,
Walks around with quiet determination
Recording and writing about everything;
The trees, the flowers, the woods, the birds,
the butterflies, and the bees…
The rich, the powerful, their parties,
the poor, and not-so-poor…
Leading their ordinary lives
extraordinarily.
His stories glow in the national newspapers
Daily like stars in our indifferent skies,
Bringing tears in many eyes,
And smiles on many faces.
For his critics, it's all much ado about nothing.
But for his fans,
He brings a new meaning to their lives.
They find their joy and bliss in simple, easily attainable things,
They see what he sees and imagine
What they would look like through his eyes.
Suddenly miracles happen and new doors open up.
Who else but a God can achieve this?
This man is Mayank Austen Soofi,
Our God of Small Things.
His stories glow in the national newspapers/Daily like stars in our indifferent skies/Bringing tears in many eyes/And smiles on many faces….I am also moved with this emotional expression! I salute the brave Mayank Austen Soofi! The title of the poem ‘God of Small Things’ is befitting……10
I have read his book about Delhi and its monuments and read articles here and there. Now, I wait for his daily offerings in HT and get the best possible start of the day far from the dreary and often disheartening newspaper reports. Great tribute to an extraordinary reporter in the ordinary world. Thanks, Jasbir ji. But for his fans.... He brings a new meaning to their lives. They see what he sees and imagine Suddenly miracles happen and new doors open up
A nice portrayal of the God of small things beautifully versified. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
One thing I forgot to mention. He did publish an article about your as a person and as a poet who doesn't mind sitting on the floor of the Metro train while commuting and to write poems. It was in HT again.
Thanks, Rajnishji, for your lovely comments. I am extremely grateful.