The statue,
They too are the Gandhians
Of some sort
Willingly or unwillingly
As without knowing Gandhi and his principles,
One cannot criticize,
If we look into their hearts,
We shall find it to our surprise
That they too are the lovers of Gandhi.
The statue,
They too are the Gandhians
Of some sort
Willingly or unwillingly
As without knowing Gandhi and his principles,
One cannot criticize,
If we look into their hearts,
We shall find it to our surprise
That they too are the lovers of Gandhi.
As I can see them borrowing,Cutting the materials from,But what to say to?
Beating into the woodsOf the dark ContinentAnd enjoying the beat,Th beat of the drum.
How the concept of it?Is to be modern to be frank, bold and up-to-date?Is to be modern to look handsome or beautiful?
Bullet train hai,Bullet train hai,Chad ke to dekho magarPhir kahana?Big Brother,Which train is it,Bullet train is it,Bullet train is it,Have a ride firstThen say you something about it?
And embraces,Roses to be exchanged,Physical and bodily?Nothing spiritual about,Just amorous,Nothing to sacrifice and dedicateAnd devote to?Love is love,Let it be.
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…