Naughty Rajendra Kongar Poem by Pijush Biswas

Rajendra Kongar looked gaspering while walking down the pavement
We people would prophecy one month yet for him
As we knew he drank wine at the glasses' brim
But whenever he prohibited by one his face grew pale in sentiment.

Every night he cheered in a local inn with his mate
We listened-four glasses, nothing but for him a thing of spell
Even he seduced maids there making hell
And having been the party finished returned with his majestic gait.

Happiest of happy men he seemed to be
While the maids together caressed his body to knee
'O babies, let me die of a young man's death', he said
Ignoring his shrunken skin, we would see, he rid.

Meanwhile, he looked exhausted before being ended the transaction
'Little boy, you may die', the inn-keeper used to send caution
As he looked to be trembling and heart beat 'Thump-Thump'
But who care! -he exploded there like a youthful bomb.

No grumpy men die a blissful death, it proved-
Neither they love nor be loved; remain unmoved.
Only their gruff and rough manners make lives trifle
Hence, into the deadly and dreary condition they fall.

We listened, being fully addicted he was back to home one night
And hovered like a bird over the road losing eye-sight.
A loaded truck coming towards him seemed to cover
Yet bitterly he was run over.