Read The Book Of My Life (The Autobiography Of A Burquawalli) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Burquawalli, what are you writing, what are you?
“I am writing, writing my-story,
I means the story of my life,
Which you do not know.”

“What do you know about me,
My life and times down the ages,
What do you about? , ”
Said she Burquawalli,
With a pity into the eyes of hers.

Burquawalli, what is it that you are putting to words?
“You do not know what it has happened to me,
How have I borne them,
You do not, do not know, my autobiography,
My diary too, none has been able to read it
And what more to say to? ”

“My memoir and my reflection,
Time too cannot,
My poem, my story,
My one-act play,
None has
My novel and my poetry-book.”

“You have just read about in prosaically,
My drama none has
Staged and enacted,
The drama of my life,
My sketch none has sketched.”

“Here lie I in as an idea, an image,
A thought and a reflection,
A painting and a portrait
Undrawn and unsketched,
Just in a frame,
Curtained over.”