Illiterate, ignorant,
Four years old of Orissa, India
Buddhia Singh, a slum dweller,
But self-confident and
Ready to brave all obstacles
To hit a target, world's wonder,
Knows not what is popularity,
Yet attracted world attention
As a marathon runner.
To welcome him, to greet him,
To have a glimpse at him,
From every nook and corner
Of all over the world,
Thronging to streets,
Irrespetive of age, stature
And gender.
Priya Oriya in the true sense.
But in a fake contest with Buddhia,
Organized by non-oriya organization,
The chief Minister of Orissa
Declared as winner.
The innocent boy had
No knowledge about the contest
And the Chief Minister
Enjoyed his own victory,
No matter, he is able or not able to
Utter the state official language,
No matter, he has done what
And not done what for others.
How shame, how we are,
The common men of the state,
How our earth, how our language
And the language of our mother!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We are governed by non-odias.