(In memory of Juhulaw Kachari, A Nobody)
Yet to finish my half cigarette,
A dark cloud is wrapping up the river fast.
Searched in my pocket and found
That Plectrum, peeping out of few penny.
I don't have my guitar with me.
What about the first chord I learned?
What about leaving everything to reach the Hill Top?
What about those green grasses, wet days
And a bright smiling face?
I left my land,left everything.
I left you my friend.
But still here is the "Wind of Change" at Hill Top,
Grasses are humming every time,
my first chord.
Now I fear, coming down from the Top with my shoe laces open.