My mother hates to hear word of my death.
In jest when for life I lost my faith.
For this my father scolded me a bit.
Something unusual within me, lit.
I felt I pricked something in his heart.
Why does their love so much falls in my part?
This is what parents feel about children.
In response they are pushed in dirty drain.
In imagination in lunar.
Can I think becoming Shrawan Kumar?
