What a bright beautiful day,
Across the calm serene beach bay.
A little girl closed in, selling toys of clay,
Her face broiling in, tropical summer may,
But her lambent eyes, competition to the sun ray.
Saheb, saheb, peppy toys to play,
My eyes for a moment got fixed to her injured face gray.
I asked “what happened, where do you stay”?
She replied “I can’t talk, there will be delay”!
She went far-off, with a dejected say.
My ideate of my new ‘India’ , quivered away,
Another innocent, unwary, unworldly prey,
Towards the largest web of human decay.
What a gloomy, grotesque day,
Across the alarmed, deafening beach bay.