In History,
their pages were rotten.
So, to include them with ours,
we have forgotten.
Forgotten, that they have also
Emotion and voice.
In the name of Development.
We have marginally outskirted them.
Where their life is not their choice.
Small but beautiful villages
From the above as we gaze.
But, they are the den of violence.
Our administration is speechless
Administrators are worthless
So only the scams are occupying Newspaper's pages.
In History the pages were deaf and dumb
And now these are also mum.
In History they are counting their days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In the name of Development. We have marginally outskirted them. Where their life is not their choice. A thoughtful write, a lovely poem.