Rise

They were sixteen in the family

Sharing one chappati amongst them;

But the house in the capital

Had a lavish supper.

When it rained hard,

They had nothing to wear;

Only a small roof to be shared;

But thou after a nap

Got up, stared at the window

And said "Perhaps it rained !"

When festive time came,

Thou prepared for celebrations

With new wear and plenty to eat;

But for them its nothing more than a nightmare

With nothing to wear

And hardly anything to satisfy their hunger.

Thy preserve thine innocence

And learn the ethics at school;

But at the age of holding pen,

He holds a bowl adding to his livelihood

Making him a likely goon.

Can't thou be a bit liberal;

Give away thy extravagance

For them who dream

But reality supresses their desires.