To my sweet little town

Oh my sweet little town,
Shinning like a diamond in the king’s crown
like a glorious past i have left you,
for most of the time i am not with you,
and if the things continued in the same manner,
someday i may leave you forever,
and may not comeback to you ever,
but that is not what worries me,
what worries me more is,
what will happen to you?,
if everyone like me deserted you,

will you be left with a few old men and women,
who will be wiped away by death and then?
will all the shops in the bazaar go shut?
will there be no people in the
beautiful mansions and small roadside hut?
will the fields everywhere lay forever barren?
will you just become passing caravan's tavern?
will there be no kids to play in the high school ground?
will the temples also become silent
and you will be devoid of any sound?
will then no train halt at our place?
will the wild bushes eat up the busy bus stand space?
will then your name also be taken away from you?
and then even on most detailed maps
there wont be any place for you?
Ah! this will be too much for you,
a death too untimely for you,

no no no this cannot happen,
no no no this won't happen,
hold on hold on,
let me catch my breath,
let me come back to my on,
every bit of which you own,

i will never let this happen to you,
i will be the savior for you,
the day you see the first signs of such thing,
make the morning air your messenger,
and blow it towards south in full swing,
and no matter whatsoever happens
i will come back and stay with you,
and i will urge the people not to leave,
and ask them too to be with you,
but if nobody agreed,
then alone i will accompany you,

in the mornings i will plough all the fields,
each season i will sow them with,
fresh wheat, rice, marigold, sunflower seeds,
i will open all the shops,
and i will sing in your temples
till with pain my throat starts to choke,
and in the noons i will go to places,
to talk to the far living human races,
and i will urge them and i will plead them,
to come to you and to be with you,
and if some folks do come which i am sure will come,
a place more beautiful than you,
where on this earth will get someone,
than everything will be again fine,
like old days with happiness you will shine

but if the things did not go our away,
then this will be the homage which to you i will pay,
with my old tired and sunken hands,
i will write with my blood the story of
your unfortunate fate on the whole land,
then a place of pilgrimage definitely you will be,
and if that is what is our fate let it be.