*-Vyomesh Chitravansh
my village
calls me
Sends a lot of messages
from the first showers of rain
In the sweet, lazy smell of the soil
Made from tender neem bark
in dry white gums
of mango fruits and berries
in the scent of soft drinks
Found in temple offerings
Two to four basil leaves,
my village
Sends messages with reproach
soaked by early rain
from the stony and grassy plains
Sidhari, snail, and bhuji from Kosli
From karemu and sennai greens
From Chilbil, Tikora, Guava Dhodi
From the study of Kabaddi, Sutur Pattar
With the lyrics of Pachaiya's Dangal Biraha
my village
Wakes me up to your
In unforgotten memories
in the thundering clouds and flashing lightning
filled with dripping drops
Paddy planted in the fields
In the overflowing ponds with frogs
my village
tickles me
In the colours scattered in the month of Phagun
Fill your love with abuses and jokes
Chaita with Fagua
in the half-ripe ears of Horhe
on the swing and laughter
In the laughing and swaying eyes
my village
complains to me
how do you live
in these crowded streets
trying to humiliate each other
in these big buildings
Among people running aimlessly
and fighting each other in lies
my village
pleads
Come on, let's go there again
sitting on the edge of the field
will suck the reed
walking on the trails
I will eat Chacha Chaudhary's gram.
kill fish and
on the tree tops
will aim
That's for sure
You will still win.
my village
grabs my hand
ok there's nothing there
But you will laugh there
I agree there are no cars there but you
If you come running when I call you
Here you have it all
what the city needs
But your smile is not there
that danced aimlessly on your lips
You seem incomplete without it
completely empty, like looted and beaten
my village
Sitting outside waiting to take me back
She's waiting for me to come with her
and I
I'm hiding again
So that I don't have to face him...
I'm hiding again
So that I don't have to face him...
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