Dark alley,
Serenaded by a line up of muddy thatched and bamboo structures,
lesser humans call it home,
feeble light surfacing,
cattles grazing on burnt grasses,
peasant life,
cut off from modernity,
and humdrum of city life,
dwellers squatting on mud,
under the roof of jamoon trees,
wrinkled faces,
children drenched in a pool of mud,
clothes slapped on hardened stones,
aspirations lost in translation,
nursing wounds of destiny,
no modesty to wear on the sleeve,
rummaging through the barren soil,
to feed hungry stomachs,
cooing of birds in the night,
a humble lullaby to the ear,
timid smiles and grins hiding pain,
unburdened by guilt,
happiness is heavy barter to trade for.
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