All are not born with same talent wide
So are looked upon badly, get chide
Without any mistake they stride
Trying to overcome aversion and pride.
Such children are made stand at curbside
And never in limelight nor can they decide
Where to win or verve or vigor or hide.
Such a boy is Neelraj, whom I too cried
Bad words and treatment. Later I sighed
In his support who was naughty and vied
For excellence in his behavior to ride
The position he not aspired for in pride.
Hence again I like to say - Never divide
Children in class and creed; nor deride
Them for what they not had spied.
Neelraj's naughtiness and mischief can be dried
Into obedience, respect and duty; not to snide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem