Pray Bapu1, we’re in plastic age,
Stay happy installed, tall on stage.
Too bad, your birthday prayer meets,
Rows of stark chairs staring in rage,
If your spinning wheels still rotate,
They just spin for a page-three page.
Your ideals may well still be there—
Safe and secured, captive in cage,
When so I see your smiling face
On a wall, O...
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