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the Journey of my mind

I cannot write poetry . However,what I write, I cannot call it prose. Whenever I've shown it to someone they said it was poetry. You read and decide then let me know



Saturday, 14 March 2026



12.12.2025

Festive mood in the -

air, here and there, everywhere .

Chritmas is coming .


The banjaras sit

With their mortars and grinders.

Few buy, few pass by.


13.12.2026

The pavement their home.

With blankets and stoves, waiting -

For their wares to sell.


14.12.2025.

In the festive air

I see despair  in their eyes.

No one buys their wares.


15.12.2025 

Husband, wife and child,

Standing together, urging

People to buy toys.


No one looks at them.

Sometimes a balloon is bought

And sometimes a ball.


16.12.2025


The Banjara kids

Tug at other kids to buy

Streamers and balloon


17.12.2025

The fair is over

Bricks, burst balloons  lie scattered.

The banjaras  gone.

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