Rajib Goswami
And the strings of sitar echoed all five notes of abhogi in a luxurious mode. The moon outside had just started drifting through the autumn clouds; suddenly the beautiful melody coming out from the window of that little room where our boy and his mom were talking, struck its ears.
And the moon slipped through the window. The boy had just slept, beside his mom and the mom was reading the poem written by her 8-year-old son. Tears were rolling down from her cheek.
The moon kissed those tears and said –
Man, your creation is no less than his. And now I read this poem…to the rivers and oceans, to the mountains, to the stars and all the distance that my light can travel.
Which star u r Pop
Mom showed me the brightest.
I saw a tiny piece of light
coming straight from the Heaven.
There he is…mom said.
Which star u r Pop
The busy road towards my school
The blackboard with all numerical figures
The wide football ground glittering under the sun,
and the sound of sitar making the moon
dancing on my bed…u showed.
Which star u r Pop
I don’t know why u r not here
I don’t know who have changed u
into a star…I want to pray to him…
Let me meet my dad again
Which star u r Pop
I wanna sleep again
I wanna play again
I wanna solve all puzzles
Please come and hold my hand.
Which star u r Pop
Hey God, are you hearing me?
Can’t you bring back my dad?
Why the sun always covers all the stars
Let me see my dad
Please, let me meet my dad.
