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I Have Sucked The Breast Of A Widow Whom You May Call Yasoda

I have sucked the breast of a widow
Who lost her husband at the age of nine
And was unable to remember her husband
Who died of typhoid
In the wake of not, a little before
The independence of India.

As my mother used to keep away, I used to live with her
And she used to give her poor and beaten breast to me,
A child-widow, widow of India rearing me

And I grew up under the shade of the sari anchal, border
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