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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Far from the madding crowd I treasure the myths you gone through Once I walk down the streets of legends Even the weeping dusts reminds me of Bloods, who immolated their lives to you. Oh Calcutta! You live with a pride For ages you are loved They valued glory above life itself When they speak of valiance And guns are still fired in the air Withal due respect of those souls Who deserved their nascence In the realm of your freedom. Oh Calcutta! You live with an honesty Not because of the madding crowd Because you are blessed with eternity As she flows with her gentle ripples That streams the ambit of almighty purity When I voyage down the river I breathe the air of immortality. Far from the madding crowd I travel down the busy streets of the city, The antique edifices still provides me with The evidence of such superiority, Walls still fends against the political conspiracy. Oh Calcutta! You live with prosperity Though affected by the madding political crowd Once you were ruled by the dwellers Now your sanity being destroyed immensely By your own posterity Living in the land of divinity Of goddesses Durga and Kali And they still feigned that they are native. Oh Calcutta! You live with heritages Not beacuse of the busy primal edifices But you have the world known aged cantilever bridge And over a century living the tramways. Your marbles are still gloried by the dwellers And they still wonder the hand pulled rickshaws And admire for the age old alleys. Far from the madding crowd I still come across the pavements by the busy roads Coins dropping with bimetallic sounds in the beggar's bowl The vendors hallooing with prices on a rhythmical prose And as I step ahead, I find my foot stuck in the crud mid of the road. Oh Calcutta! You still live with diversity Not beacuse of the poor and rich But you still have few people left helping you in needs You still have one culture you were born with Hindu-Muslims celebrating together both Id and Autumn fests Joining their hands with the christians when December ends. Oh Calcutta! You still live with your beauty Not only beacuse you have the beautiful bengali adorned brides But you still have the chapters of noetic minds You still exist with love and peace Only when I find you far from the madding crowded streets.
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