This man on the road

What a shame

Nothing will ever change!

How long will this man last on the road

Thinking his personal odes!

Why is he worried about the world

Hasn’t he heard?

They have passed him by!

They are waiting for him to die; to pass away

On this road unknown

That will shut up another anti-voice.

They want jargon

Garlands and bargains

Doublespeak, spin, din

Not anything that makes them think

Die old man

Die in peace

Nothing will change

All will remain the same

As was 5000 years ago

Kings, Maharajas and Pharao

Gentlemen proper

But unseen millions of paupers!

Nothing will change!

It will remain the same!

Run don’t walk my man

Escape their clutches while you can.

Parting Such Sweet Sorrow

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I am guessing here but if you see the young maybe twelve year old hunched up boy in a red turban in the forefront- he is crying and his mother is consoling him. He is most probably going to the city to earn a pittance to send back to his poor parents in the village.

Meanwhile people are waiting for their train, talking, discussing big things while others look in the distance just thinking about where to get their next meal. A beggar with a big cloth bag and a wooden staff waits patiently for some alms from the group talking near the tea shop. Life goes on in its constant harshness for the poor people of India.

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