telugoon

  Past me, as those breezy winds are blown  I looked through the window of the train To find the clouds go grey and ready to rain I see a kid running on those streets with a kite As if he can stop the rain with all his might The mud on those roads is usual to him Chances to slow him down are very slim Looks like it’s all the same for him daily But the smile on his face is nowhere close to be weary   Those families live in those city outcasts called as slums Away from the world, thrown and detached In the mud, they are blossoming lotuses As a web of a spider, the strings of their hearts stay attached Neither a benefactor nor a beneficiary as the world blooms In those reckless lives they lead, is where love is being hatched No one pays an ear to mend the pits in their houses and their lives But amusingly they are great craftsmen, their souls are patched With those carefully and systematically grown herbs These wild flowers can’t be co...