There in Bahanaga
Small clouds create rain,
There in trains collision
Small tales create love.
I know not the poet
But I find all in deep love,
I know not who is alive
And who is dead.
A doll and a notebook,
Plastic water bottles
And luggage,
All are there as witnesses.
Lives devasted.
Relationships ups and downs
In red, blue, green and violets
And all flung away.
2) . they will detect ‘sabotage' in it… because the elections are near… they will continue to blame the opposition, or their predecessors.. nothing changes! Nothing! Not even the taste of tears…
1) "Lives devastated"…. But there is love still in Bahanaga… Denis is right! It could by any of us, the common man… Now they will find scapegoats for their own failures… they will detect ‘sabotage' in it… because the elections are near
I agree with Denis, it could be anyone of us. Who cares, they all are up to make it a grand show off with crocodile's tear, compensation package and media coverage. I really feel sorry for the lives lost due to man made errors.
Thank you for sounding this note of mourning. Having taken the train from Kolkata to Bhubaneswar, I know how fertile the plains of eastern India are. It could have been any of us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
3) Good to see you, Gajananji, back here. Thank you for coming back.