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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=350533" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A New World Is In The Coming</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pre-noon, sun preparing to turn harsh<br>Large shade of a gulmohar tree<br>A four or so year old boy<br>Sitting on a small sand heap<br>Near a construction site<br>With a blue jeans<br>Here-and-there torn<br>White fibres running across the opening<br>And an odd size dark red colour shirt<br>His parents working there nearby<br>Father a mason<br>Ever busy with mixing cement and sand<br>And also supervising the work<br>Of some construction labourers<br>His mother carrying a head load of bricks<br>At regular intervals<br>Once a while she comes near him<br>And sees from a distance making sure<br>He is safe and behaving<br>The boy minds not things around<br>The horn of a passing car gets unnoticed by him<br>He knows the car will pass without hurting him<br>A barking dog cannot threaten him<br>Nor a cow going very close to him<br>He is unmoved by any such <br>Normally-termed unsafe situations<br>He poses to be smart<br>As he probably is exposed to these<br>For more than two years now<br>He is happy throwing handful of sands around<br>He makes a small ball of sand<br>And enjoys the sight of its breaking<br>At the pressure of his tender fingers<br>Suddenly he thinks of a small hill<br>And starts pushing sands <br>Towards a centre point<br>So that the collection heaps up to hill<br>He has almost done it<br>His dad appears yelling at him<br>Move away, I need this sand<br>I am to prepare a fresh mix<br>Lifts his son single handedly<br>Practically throwing his son onto the road<br>The child cries<br>He can stand hunger, <br>He can stand un-attending, <br>He can stand thirst, <br>He can stand beating, <br>But not this insult of<br>Denying him the only play thing, the sand<br>He started crying pitifully<br>Mother after unloading her head load of bricks<br>Comes rushing to her crying son and says<br>Stop crying, do not worry<br>A new lorry load of sand will soon come<br>You can stay atop on a big heap of sand<br>And play for long<br>The boy, our hero, understands<br>Stops crying at once, as he knows<br>A new world is in the coming</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Bashyam+Narayanan">Bashyam Narayanan</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=350533" data-title="A New World Is In The Coming de Bashyam Narayanan" data-description="Pre-noon, sun preparing to turn harsh
Large shade of a gulmohar tree
A four or so year old boy
Sitting on a small sand heap
Near a construction site
With a blue jeans
Here-and-there torn
White fibres running across the opening
And an odd size dark..."></div>
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