Heard the sound of shell - the shankh -
In MiG colony on way to Gym in MiG Club.
Reminds me of my first visit
To Puri beach: sitting in a bus
As a trainee for one week
In XIM, Bubaneswar, Orissa,
I went from MIDA of Pune, Maharashtra.
Some seller came sideways to the bus
And tried to sell Puri sea shells
Saying they make great music.
I took one, and my friend said,
'Not everybody can extract music from it! '
That was good enough provocation
I tried hard, enough to produce
That deep trumpet sound from the shank.
In those days, it was important for me
To do what others thought can't be done:
As years pass by, I have outgrown that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem