Khoka, they will not let you grow,
I know it
And you too will not like to grow,
The world changed it
Over the years with the passage of time,
Life too took a turn of its own,
But you did not,
You did not change, Khoka,
You remained the same.
The same Khoka who is born,
Who lives with,
A toothless boy not,
But a full-grown up Khoka,
You did not change,
Cared you not to change
With the times and the age,
Discarding childish instincts,
Behaviour and manner.
Khoka, I know it well, they will not let you grow up
And you too not like to grow up
With the advancing age and maturity,
The childhood in you
Leaves you not
And you too not ready to discard them,
The habits formed in childhood,
The instincts nurtured in.
A sickling you can never part ways with,
The company you got,
The affection and bonding you got it
With so much so extra care and love,
Never did you compromise with Nature
And human resistance,
Lived you on medicines,
Seldom stepping on good earth.
In fear psychosis grew you up
Abnormally and artificially,
Emotionally and sentimentally,
Lyrically and dramatically
Just like a theatre persona,
An opera artiste,
Khoka, living still
In the memory of his parents,
The house where he was born
And that too all alone, single.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem