On the Facebook whose face shall I come to see
As meet they not,
Just chat from far off
Online if the link is available,
Recharge vouchers toned up,
Money paid before
And there is no load-shedding?
Just the modern urban and busy technocratic men
Converse with,
I mean chat they taking Indian chaat,
Spicy, fried and salald mixed,
Salted and sauce sprinkled fast and junk food,
Taking chaat and chatting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem