We are farmers, we agree to culture.
Farming opportunities in deserts,
Through the windmills of our efforts.
We trap the sun in our eyes,
What's left we store in silicon's slice.
We sow endeavor. We till risk,
We are ruthless to the moment and brisk.
Our minds are like our lands,
Saline, sandy, loamy, fertile but always productive.
We learn what we need, leave what is not conducive.
We know addition multiplication, don't focus on substraction and division.
We sneeze, cough or go shy,
The stock exchange goes for a dive.
The crop grows in our eyes,
Fresh, minted, sparkling, bright,
The Reserve Bank of India her might,
Looks at us with pride
we are its delight.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Gujarati's by Hardik Vaidya )
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(3rd April 19sixty)
(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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