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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