Father use to talk about

Refusing to sit on ground,But he is the same manWho used to sit and read on a matIn the countryside homesAnd used to sleep on a rope-and-bamboo-cot.Now calls he himself an officer,His father had not been,But he is an officer,But his officials fail to recognizeThe father of the officer,To whom goes it the credit of…

Their goodness and contribution,Their dislocation and displacement,The diaspora daisAnd the lost mother tongue.

Going by the way,Marking the beauty ofNature and its phenomena,The panorama clad in mysteryAnd fineness.But sometimes trauma and bad timesTake overAnd it comes in the life ofEvery human beingWhen he needs to survive and sustainSomehowEven though under hardship and suffering.

Taking the rugged men far,The nomadic tribesLiving under tents.

Sitting on the seashore darklyAnd feeling about you.How are you,Wherever are you, live you happily,Your photo I can seeBut what to say to you,How to get the message sent across?

Under the mist and the dews?Who is, who is the maidenWith the star as flowerPlucked and put into the handsGoing in the dark?Under the moonlit nights, who the maiden going,Talking with the starsAnd the fair, fine and icy fresh rajanigandha sticksFull of whitely blooms,Dreamy and strangely scented,Smiling and talking?O, love’s talks!I just marking her from…