O , Powai :
End of the road
For these non-animate
Buses and trucks
Full stop !
And yet
The very beginning of a road,
Of a career,
Of a search for happiness
- material for most
- spiritual for some,
To the thousands
Very very animate
Humans,
A place of work
Of worship
Of daily pilgrimage
Sacrosanct
Of worship
Of daily pilgrimage
Sacrosanct
O Powai
These people breathe
Beneath your boundless, blue canopy
An air, full of dignity
Of human labour,
And give you a soul,
These people,
Your children all
O Powai
Give you a soul
To make you come alive
With their joys and fears
And their frustrations
And their dreams.
They breathe life
In your machines,
In the glass and steel and
concrete
Of your edifices,
In your asphalt roads,
In the red of your gold-mohur
And the greens of your lawns.
Of your edifices,
In your asphalt roads,
In the red of your gold-mohur
And the greens of your lawns.
These people sweat
From dawn to dusk,
To deliver
No mere goods, but
Promises
Of a better tomorrow,
To the teeming millions
Of this ancient land.
Promises
Of a better tomorrow,
To the teeming millions
Of this ancient land.
Return to them,
A thousand fold
What they give you,
O Powai