Pain of a small town father...

Hi folks, feels gud to be back after so many days, was busy with work. So this post is about a poem my baba wrote, he wasn't fine from past few weeks, and neither of me or my young bro could go to Raipur to see him and take him to a Doctor, none of us could get leave. I got busy with my work and shanu(my bro) was busy with his college(which resembles very close to military school). So at the end we were frustated and tensed, and my parents were helpless. So here it goes, a small wrk from Mr. N.K.Roy, my papa..

Budhape ne di dastak, majbur sharir hua natmastak

paristhitia parikul bani, bimari ne kisi ki na suni

kamjor larkharate doctor ke pass gaye, dhakka gali siwa kuch na paaye

doctor ne jawaab diya kal aana,MRI aur saari jaanch kara lana

hum kehte gaye aur udhar parchi ban kar taiyaar,

hum samajh gaye doctor ne kar diya vaayapar

larkharate jhaanch sabhi kar aaya, kewal patni ka kandha saath aaya

bacchhe durasth, padhai ko majboor, 

chah kar na kuch kar sake, chutti na hui manjoor

kaha padhai se nikale jaaoge, fir shaayad naukri kabhi na paaoge

shaayad yehi aaj ka jeevan hai, karo sangharsh rahe santosh yehi amulya dhan hai....

The idea to post this was to tell the plight of parents and their children, who come from small towns to big cities in search of a good career and a stable future. Somewhere down the line we are so much focused about our future and so much in binding with it, that we tend to forget our past, place from where we came from. But I guess, putting your career at stake isn't a good idea  either, and this is the dilemma of all of us guys who as MNS puts it are 'outsiders' or 'migrants', we all at times, are in so called 'dharamsankat' as to how to choose between your social and professional duties. Somebody is missing his son or daughter, somebody is missing his wife but we can't go back home because in real world you need money and a decent professional life...So we sacrifice, sacrifice of feelings, sacrifice of social duties, sacrifice of love. But still the Indian middle class wakes up every morning, struggles with life, struggles with office boss, struggles with local politics, struggles with everything and comes back home, yet managing a smile on his face, kyunki

"mann mein hai vishas, pura hai vishwaas

hum honge kamyaab ek din"

Thanks for your patient reading

Tinu..