Winter dawn, fog and mystery,
Somewhere it is busy time and
Somewhere it is sleeping time,
I am standing awake,
On the side of a bypass road.
Nearby to a village, where
Dwellers are in deep slumber,
Delicately balanced and unperturbed.
They need no necessity to apologize
To God or to the state, because
Beautiful night is silent on sound sleep,
Uninterrupted flood lights and heavily loaded
Trucks are on the road, always running
To carry essential commodities, usually moving
Wheels and engine make echo inside.
I, mesmerized, taking me as myth, and it is me.
I was involved in loving one youngster, and
I tried to help him as care taker for the time being,
So as to looking into matters, in absence of parents,
Of supervising his playing capability,
And I have to stay in the village, and
At dawn, I woke up and stood alone there.
Some learning would come, and I have evaluated
The moment of my performance,
As I have submitted a paper of assessment
On the performance of the little one,
To his parents who would approve or disapprove
Quality of my supervising retrospect.
And I have learnt everything of parents’ judgement,
It was that I did not know the technique,
As I loved my own benefit for money, and
I spoilt their ambition, leaping into hypothesis,
That did not work in practice and
I spent time to live with their hope
For attaining of superiority,
I have made only torque of my desires,
Not benefitting to their little one,
As they did not take me as a party of favorite,
Irony of fate,
And I have to leave this place and to walk away
For another destination for good,
Losing my honor for investing time with them,
Morning is coming and I have to forget
The moment of smiling of that little one
Who once broke silence with his bursting laughter.