When I retrospect my life
Mumbai comes ahead
and particularly the place
where I put my first step
it's the DAS hostel at Colaba
hostel super was a Goan
a 50 plus young man
used to reside inside campus
with his family
first day I saw a young woman in his residence
with her two months baby boy
the baby was crying loudly
in her lap
suddenly she lay him on the bed
took half a spoon of wine
mixed little water
and poured into his mouth
he stopped crying
and slept soon
I kept on watching her for sometime.
Within a day, I came to know
the woman was super's elder daughter
and the baby his grandson
later I noticed that scene
again and again...
and realised, it was Goan culture
I was three years in hostel
when I left
the boy was super's regular drink partner
his quota was one peg of wine
and a fish fry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I wonder if it could be true! ! It amounts to snatching childhood from a child. Thanks for sharing.