THE BANGLES

      

The bangles jingle, jingled on with a musical note

Jingle, Jingle, the noise stole the heart of everyone

Adorned on the fair hands of the new bride, they glittered

Sparkled more than the gold or diamond she wore.

As the bangles jingled on and on, the bride, her rosy face

Becoming redder with the dreams of her future life

Longingly, she caressed the bangles, red and green

Waiting for her happy life to bloom, and unfold soon for her.

But behind the jungle jingling note of the bangles

No one saw a tender child's hand burnt brutally, daily

Sitting in front of a hot fire, he turned the bundle constantly

His shirtless body, just a bony cage, nothing but ribs

Caught in bonded labour, unknown to this world

Hundreds like him, sat making bangles all night

The night was the time to work to avoid a raid by the police

For him, the colour of bangles was always just red.

He knew not who is going to wear those bangles and why

Or could they even think of his burnt hands and body

All that lovely colours of red, green and violet there

Were just nothing but red, the blood of the exploited child