Birds of a feather flock together,
The assistants, book keepers and dusters
After doing it Matric, I.A. and B A. somehow
From open, distance and franchisee centre
Or privately after failing so many times
Through grace marks given
Or the compartmental
But now good placed as officers
Gossiping with the old union guy,
We mean the boss
In contact with parties and leaders
Wanting to rein
And the current students whispering about
The firebrand leader
Sitting in the library office
With the book-lending counter
Not only that
The professors too passing
With a look cast, smile extended
And a good gesture
Greeting his presence
Even though a persona like him
So busy
And keeping a tight schedule,
In khadi kurta and pyjamas
And the goggles stuck, tucked over
The button of the shirt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem