If I stand among the South-bound Murshidabadi labourers,
I have to tolerate their dead eyes, drooping heads,
barbaric words and decaying frames
If I stand among the salaried, I have to tolerate their bulging belly,
endless inane prattle, fake faces, borrowed attitudes,
feigned sunshine
So, I choose to stand among the labourers
and enjoy the warmth of the workers, free
to live as they wish, in shanties and under the wide sky
free to eat leftovers, as do street dogs
in our town
