Were you a Bihari politician
Or a diplomat,
An economist
Or a royal advisor,
A political scientist
Or a Brahmin Sanskritist?
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On mother’s day, I become remembered of,
How had it been my house,How they used to be with,The house lies it thereonBut they themselves are not,Gone and gone away?
Before
I shall give youAn antique statueOf Radha and KrishnaFound fromThe fallen columns and pillarOf the older templesMade from lime clay and small-small bricks.
Pikar daru,
Say you not,Happy,Happy new yearPikar daru,Deshi or videshi,Native and local or foreign liquorAs daru is daru,Wine is wine.
Beloved, let me see you,
Dark and lovely,Your face,Fair and lovely,Your cheeksAppleyish and fine,your lipsPink,Your hair,Waist-long.
Beti ka dard to samajhiyei,
Beti kewal parayi nahi hoti hai,Bhul karna to humari adat hai,Honour killing nahi hona chahiyei.Try to comprehend the pain of a daughter,She too has a personal life,The daughter is of the other man only,To commit mistakes is but our nature,There should not be any honour killing.
Malnutrition as a poor child miserably
Mother turning into a skeletonAnd the eyes of the child sunken deep into.