Today we have many link roads and connect ways to cross over into
But there was a time,
When the British were taking the building work
And did they too in
The India of exotic flora and fauna,
Dense forests and vast tracts of lands
With varieties and variations
And as a result of British town life and planning,
Many cities and towns grew into
Otherwise India had been a country of villages
With its soul inhabiting the countryside,
But the change took place in our living
And we started liking the towns
As for education, knowledge and information sake
Instead of being blind, superstitious, backward, underdeveloped,
Illiterate, uneducated, impoverished,
Yielding to astrology, fatalism, soothsaying, oracle,
Leaving everything into the hands of the Unseen and the Invisible,
Calling God to cure of diseases,
Beating the witches for ailment,
Bent they towards Western reasoning, logic and fact-finding,
Medicine, technology, information and connectivity
And as a result of these developments, the townsmen with their roots in villages,
Used to visit them often
And during the rainy days
When the muddy connect ways used to be slippery and water-logged,
They used to take off the things one by one,
First the leather boots, then upping and folding the pants,
Then keeping the watch into the pocket
And then mud-stained shirt to be bundled and kept on the shoulders,
Then pants to be taken off
And in the underwears,
Calling the villagerly people from this bank of the river
As for taking to that side
And the river swaying, water levels rising
And the townsman, the urban babu
Leaving his babugiri crossing the river in utter fear and helplessness,
Ganga maiya ki jai.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem