Every
time I travel by train
he
gets into it
at
some place or another
led
by the helping hand
of
his daughter.
He
recites
that
same old verse,
from
the Daasarathi Satakam
always.
That
same voice
when
in his previous life
he
probably
fell
into a deep well
and
died
with
no one to hear
his
pathetic cry
for
help.
That
same cry
becoming
more and more faint
in
his throat,
found
him
at
last
in
this life
and
came to him.
Those
eyes
are
the same
looking
for
a saviour
he
waited and waited
with
his gaze fixed
like
his whole life
stood
there
in
those eyes,
found
him
at
last
in
this life,
and
came to him.
Every
time I hear him sing
and
see his eyes
my
heart
urges
me
to
rescue him
from
drowning
in
the well.
He
stops singing,
begs
for money
from
the people,
and
led by his daughter
gets
off.
I
remain
in
the train.
–Translated by
B V L NARAYANAROW