How can I tell
Of the unspoken hell
That life in Bihar
Means hour by hour
We’re bitten by Mossies
We’re beaten by Aussies,
We lack drinking water,
We sell of our daughter.
We lack electric power,
We cringe and we cower,
We’re ruled by buffoons,
We live in cocoons.
Our police is obscene,
We’re petrified of ‘green’
We struggle, we labour,
We’re prey for our neighbour.
We’ve infected out colon,
Our money is stolen,
Our phone calls tapes,
Our young ones raped.
We’re perpetually fooled,
Ruled and over-ruled,
Ever facing strife
Perpetuating our life.
Deprived, more than gifted,
Harassed, more than lifted,
Oppressed, not relieved,
At all times deceived.
We’re politically mobbed,
And looted and robbed,
Our goods are hijacked,
Our kids kidnapped.
“Then why do you stay,”
You’ll ask me to say.
“And how do you cope
Of devoid of hope?”
“Tis because I feel I know
Since it always wasn’t so,
So it always be
A life of misery
All ills that cause dismay,
Can always end today,
Dying as phases must,
Crumbling, powdered dust
And that great ‘today’,
Just a night away
You’re quite free to borrow
My faith in tomorrow. |