TO MY UNBORN
by Samyamoy Sen Gupta I am sorry my child but this place is not for you. Here food is scarce and so is hope. Here the sky is overcast and strong winds blow. Here religion is deep rooted but logic is not. Here the air is heavy with dirt and smoke. Water is murky and so is the mind. I am sorry my child but this place is not for you. Here you jostle in crowd always, and noises keep you awake. Here are no more grasses, forests, birds. Here women are to obey and satisfy. Here happiness is how much you earn and so is success. I am sorry my child but this place is not for you. Here wickeds lead a good life And good ones end in misery. Here opinions of crookeds matter. And you are to obey and serve the powerful. Here people are too naive, distracted. Here friends and neighbours cannot be trusted. This place was once great, virtuous and noble. But now the inhabitants are always afraid and seldom proud. Their identities have lost in the crowd. This is not a nice place and it's getting worse. I am sorry my child but this place is not for you. You are better off, unborn. ------------
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