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Hitherto a sleepy way-lost village,
Shall now enter history’s fresh new sheet,
Vain may turn lessons of its farm college,
That would wonder how men should the greens treat.   

Poor greens to greed shall now the tithe pay,
Life alive to dead graveyard shall yield ground,
Grey iron and concrete shall the earth pound, 
Pylons, pillars stand where trees smile today.

Old hillocks and heavenly shallow lakes
Shall get buried deep under greed’s duress,
Standing denuded shorn of born-with dress,
If progress all its priority takes.                                  

As far beyond as tired sight might endure,
We shall see trails of plied and potent wire
In hope birds would avoid this deadly mire,
The Null Lake may not retain her old lure. 

The village of refreshing lush green look
Shall soon wear an over-sized greyish coat
As an industrial township of some note,
O with a book-marked page in history book.

And yet, a village long frozen in time,
And orphaned now of its springtime dreams,
Her bounty of beauteous trees, it seems 
Oh shall pay price of progress to us prime.

Should man lose on growth highways on the run?
He knows of no ventures without a price,
There’s no virtue today without grey vice,
Let’s still one day hope to such crossroads turn.
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Industrialisation and technological progress and its impact on the country-side form the theme of this poem. Yet, helpless, it displays an ambivalent attitude: All progress demands its price that alas has to be paid—yet, a village frozen in time… shall show signs of some future. The signs of time are clear, yet can we have progress that demands no such stiff price?
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    Images | 12.10.08 |

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