Road

 ROAD


I converted unmetalled pathway into

A smooth tarmac road

So that

All of us can move on it

Comfortably

Daily somebody 

Throws on it

Pointed stones

With blood smeared hands 

And wounded feet

I engage myself 

In picking stones

So that 

Road remains clean.

So many heavy stones

settled there firmly since centuries

I try to pick up

Prejudice laughs 

Silently in lips

Slipperiness of satire

Accumulates at so many spots 

Like moss

Road built by myself

Pokes fun of me 

And seems stranger to me now.

I am cleaning slippery road

But now all around have grown

Placards

‘ Hard work is meaningless

Howsoever you work hard is less’

Like fish stuck in sand

Like a wingless bird 

Restlessness 

Is shattering

Strong body of mind

Wounded hands 

Are cleaning 

Slipperiness from road

So that 

For those who come after me

This road remains in perfect condition

This road remains clean.

ORIGINAL POEM IN HINDI: SANTOSH KHANNA DIDI

TRANSLATION INTO ENGLISH; RAJNI CHHABRA

(WITH HER CONSENT)

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