You are nothing more than toys,
That of it is the long and short
Like flies to wanton boys,
You get killed for their sport!
Do not gripe and do not grumble,
Isn't death life's ultimate goal?
In this journey should you fumble,
Who will offer Tarpan for your soul?
Make sure your anger doesn't spill,
You cannot just shout and scream
One must swallow every bitter pill,
For leader and his Vishwaguru dream.
You must be ready to bear every pain,
Every sacrifice you make is small
The price you pay makes party gain,
So that our leaderji can stand so tall.
People may die here every day,
The country may be a powder keg
But nothing is as crucial I may say,
Like an inimical actor's injured leg.
Please do not ever reason why,
Sacrifice all for that electoral win
And even for the party if you die,
Wouldn't you finally see 'acche din'?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem