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Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 146

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee


They have come from far villages for jobs-

for food, clothing and shelter.

Slums have become their homes-

here the sunlight gets reflected back to the sky,

here the fresh air loses her freshness,

here the stagnant water has become the breeding ground of dangerous mosquitoes,

here the crows only raise their harsh voices,

here the stray dogs bark day and night...

In midst of poor sanitation, they look for the heaven!

The ultra-modern Indian cities fail

to become gorgeous because of them-

a mass of garbage blurs the glory of a city.

Here garbage is produced every day,

previously they were disposed in name of development

but now they themselves have stopped the game of disposal

until and unless they are given their right-

rehabilitation is only a part of the whole.

The cities are failing to dress in beautiful garments

due to the dumping of garbage,

the latter requests,

‘Please stop the production of poverty.’

© 2020 Sankhajit Bhattacharjee

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