I was born in a hamlet green and fresh
In not-a-far off land now called Bangladesh.
I had a home made by my daddy,
It had thatched roofs and the walls were muddy.
Tucked to the paddy fields and fishy ponds was a life
Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife.
Twittering birds and murmuring rains,
Still ring in my heart and throb in my veins.
Though small and humble I had a home of my own,
Where I lived a simple life, by the world forlorn.
For no fault of mine, for no greed or passion
I lost my home as divided was the nation
Floating I came to Calcutta in ruination,
Got a plot of land through forcible occupation.
Built a small house for a roof on my head
To pass the rest of life till I am dead.
No landlord but only an authorised occupier
That was my status as I was not a buyer;
As a price of freedom I was given at last
Ownership of the land, for my sacrifice of the past.
Again a landlord from a simple occupier,
Dream of a home again kindled my desire
Spreading it’s wings cost went higher and higher
I stood on the ground with heart on fire
While breaking one bank, river builds the other,
Land became gold though I was poor rather.
Unfulfilled dream went out of my hand
No chance to reach my cherished land.
Where there is a will, there is a way
After long night, smiled the day.
A friend indeed came through a broker,
Took me straight to a well-known developer
There was higgle-haggle quite a lot
And the terms were settled for my plot.
I had to shift to a very small flat,
Where I lived in a cage like an imprisoned rat.
I waited and waited; years went past-
Till I got a small flat at last!
At journey’s end I reached my goal
My flat was more like a pigeon-hole:
I peeped through the window to look for the sky,
With tearful eyes, I heaved a sigh
Lush green land with rustic surrounding,
Crowded my vision and thoughts abounding.
Banished forever from my beloved nature,
I could see the rest of my barren future.
In the fields and woods my imaginations roam,
I’ve got a flat, but lost my home.