the real income

Oh god give me the reward for my spirit

of my patience and my perennial grit

let the new flower blossom in my home

let me come out the failure syndrome

the wait period appear like centuries

embedded with deep mental injuries

there need be appreciation for my efforts

the prohibited luxuries, forbidden comforts

I know you will be coming down to earth

so you made me understand the real worth

let the fresh flower cast the magic smell

into the world with its miraculous spell

and make me proud in the years to come

that shall be my life’s treasure income


that cute baby

I met a cute baby yesterday

and asked for his name

baby replied philosophically

what is in the name?

he asked further mockingly

do you want to know my religion

do you want to guess my caste also

do you want to know my nation?

see, I am just a baby now

don’t build the walls around

I am just a an innocent being

don’t divide my play ground

don’t label my smile and laugh

don’t classify my breath and yawn

don’t categorise my gender or food

don’t compartmentalise my dusk and dawn