The filling was begun by the ancestors
But couldn’t, so couldn’t bloom
A smile, full of colours and fragrance
And at last they got lost un-smiled.
The pages of history get added and added,
Civilization is lifted up and up,
Ashes are turned into gold
With the magical touch of knowledge
And reason becomes the master-key
To mind and brain to open and receive.
Nevertheless, the filling is on and unabated
To fill up the hungry heart-the black hole.
May God explain its elasticity
As inexplicable by any law ever-propounded
And fill up its emptiness as an impossibility
To mankind by anything ever-produced.
Rather it welcomes innovations–
The triumph of modern civilization
Or, the ravings of mad science
And pours more fuel unconsciously
On non-extinguishable fire of greed
To digest the previous stocks of heart
And to gut off the efforts undertaken to fill it up.
Maybe, blissful we are and hopeful too
For more hunger of heart,
More to innovate and more to suffer.
We are framed, indeed, by nature
And all are volunteers in filling of hearts up.
Who dares to break the frame
And prove to be different to assume himself
As the possessor of a houseful heart?
This is merely an assumption
But an effective consolation of heart too
To inject comfort and peace into the heart
And enable us to bloom the last smile
With entire satisfaction when we will depart.
