The Golden Hearts

I do not want to time travel in the future, for I want to go back in the past,

I alone do not want to time travel in the past..

I would take our army and people with enormous quantities of food and feed those innocent dying men, women and children,

They were awaiting just a bowl of leftover soup and scavenging through the dustbins for their lives in a hot sun lying on streets like pebbles, Women covering their dignity with bare clothes, men carrying children on their bony shoulders with hope still in their eyes,

The exodus for food! Food! ...Under a foreign domination...

I want to embrace, serve People who were beaten and insulted, because they were begging for food, apparently causing trouble in repeats,

I alone cannot stand still, I would take my people who would fight so that the filthy hearts would hear and stir in the least from their comfortable seats...

I alone would not be earning decades ago until my earned remuneration would nourish a child's body,

I alone am a mere human who would not be able to feed millions of innocent bodies...

I alone cannot time travel, without you all in the Bengal famine, 

I alone cannot do anything with my desperation to remind...

But don't let our children weave the poem which I am compelled to write today,

But don't let the world fall just because we cannot share what we have in our way...

Don't let our children cry for the lives of people who are walking now helplessly to their homes for food and shelter, for care, in unimaginable pains and heavy hearts in this cruel heat in summer...

Don't let our people become photographs of despair,

I alone cannot stand upright until someone holds my hand to make our world better.