The news blows in the air in the speed of a tornado
The widow,
Mrs. Puja's lovely and healthy son bagged a job in
Frontier soldiers team with high salary and facilities.
Sweets were dropped to almost all neighbours,
And to his and her ex schools and near and dear ones,
Greetings and loves and blessings count more than
Sweets distributed,
The proud son now sends scenic beauty of Kashmir,
Of greens and of frosts and lakes and of sooooo on.
After a year and half-
People rush to their house to greet her with sweets
And dresses for the customs of Hindu funeral rituals.
After a year and half-
The news lost in the air but from Mrs. Puja.
R@ Sk Nurul Huda-2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well conceived and written piece, Nurul. Thanks for sharing
thank you very much for your short and precise comment that is a huge certificate to me....l am glad.... .after a long time you to comment to my poem....... thanks again.....