BELIHULOYA
Six decades gone, a distant call,
To childhood’s home, I pondered all.
Across the years, the hills extend,
Where waterfalls once softly wend.
In youth’s embrace, memories throng,
In fields of rice, where dreams belong.
Nature’s song, a gentle breeze,
In sacred groves, beneath the trees.
There, Saraswathi’s grace did gleam,
By streams that flowed, a tranquil stream.
In humble homes, in temples fair,
The village’s pulse hung in the air.
Yet now I pause, as I draw near,
Does village spirit still appear?
Or has progress, with its pride,
Erased the past, where shadows hide?
Will songs still echo through the night?
Or has indifference dimmed the light?
In city’s heart, where dreams decay,
Has community lost its way?
Are the villagers just as they seem,
Or mere reflections in a fleeting dream?
Hypocrites and self-servers, everywhere,
Or souls of gold, beyond compare?
