everytime in this wretched life of mine
that i shall get the freedom to cry
a little boy asks me like a voice in a well
"you did this to yourself... but why?"
never once has my voice not trembled
in trying to answer the same little boy that was me
maa, i don't want to answer him anymore
so i say "chote, a great man you'll grow up to be"
chote, if you're in there, listening
know that you must dream big, but for the world
you remain still a little boy
you, my young man,
more man than me
come, i'll get you a toy
young man, i might call you 'chote'
but your dreams are the cause to my ambition
young man, you're the best thing that happened to me,
you, you gave me a vision.
chote, make the same mistakes you did
if not more
sometimes it'll be hard, but most times
you'll love what life has in store
young man, still i wish you had learnt
feelings instead of spelling bee
it's not your fault, chote, but then
a better human i'd be
a last stanza i give to you, chote
a stanza i hope stays with you for evermore
be it singing, or be it life
there's no shame in singing
a raag that was sung before.
dedicated to seven,
in memory of her, myself and my mother
inspired from Manglesh Dabral's poem Sangatkaar.
a poem written for the younger me, whose dead soul is housed in my inhuman body