When we were small children,
We used to think of
The Republic Day jubilation
Viewing up above with innocence
The fluttering tri-colour.
And of getting toffees and lozenges if possible,
But my only regret,
They are not, just I am
With the residues of fulfilled and unfulfilled dreams,
The volumes of done and undone works,
Still searching for meaning in life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem