That you love me,
Love me!
Bobby,
Bobby, say you,
Say you, Bobby!
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A young girl,
And if she comes to not,I shall turn into a sadhuWith the long beardsComing from the ashrama.
They had been,
After Indian Independence,Had it been so,We would not have torturedFor dowry.Poor India’sPoor talesPoliticians understood it not,Just went on doing politics.
Should be our top priority,
Green Earth?
Darhiyal,
And to whose responseSaid he,I am fine,Fine.Touching the beards,Stroking it,Darhiyal,Mr.Darhiyal,Beardie.
The bus driver stopped the bus
Near the hilly way,It was the evening timeAnd he switched off the lightAnd the lion, the Asiatic lionPassed by slowlyWhen I was a childTravelling with my parentsOn my way from Deoghar to Dumka,The passengers were asked to hushAnd they whispered the name of BhagabatiOr whatsoever it pleased them.Still the image of the lion hangsOver minds…