The boy who lived so sedentary
Wished to soar like a dragonfly
Charmed by the stars in the sky
Lost his joys all rudimentary.

He who really not an orphan
But the prince of dark life,
In pursuit of real life
Escaped onto night for fun.

Street lamps got dimmed
Stars all diminished
Long journey he’s finished
Drenched in fear overbrimmed.

Is he my dear brother?
Crossing several routes alone
Like a mongrel cur for a bone,
Or dear lad of a dead mother?

A law’s minion like a ghost
With a lathi in his hand
In his khakhi dress grand
Chilled his heart the most.
Standing at a lamp post
The little boy who has lost
All hopes dreamt in the past
Became a budding poet’s host