Beyond the hills, beneath the bridge,
Can you see the winding village road?
Criss-crossing through vast fields of grains
Running a race with happily gurgling rivulets
Where men and beasts act in a symphony,
And proceed towards diverse goals in life
With endless energy and vitality.
The earthly canvas in the village boundaries
Sways to the roadie songs of love and livelihood,
Blushes in various shades of green and golden
A sight to behold in God’s own country!
A guide and friend when we have none,
The road walks with us to our destiny.
Grandpa’s lazy walks to the market,
And grandma’s stories under the banyan tree
The many bullock carts carrying the zamindar’s goods,
And the lone afternoon bus to the nearby town
The village road bears a silent testimony,
An unending source of different activities,
Will always remain etched in our memory.