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When the flags of freedom fly
They surely must evoke
Visions of that valiant tribe
Who fought to break the yoke.
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When the songs of freedom sound
They surely call to mind
Thorns they took away with them
The flowers they left behind.
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We cannot see the flowers now
Yet surely, they have grown
Perhaps they lie hidden behind,
The weeds that we have sown.
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There are just twenty of them, would you believe!
The rest are restrained, why not allowed to leave?
Maybe the score bears numberless grains of rice
To fill million stomachs, a little left over for mice.
Divine intervention? So meagre is thy daily bread
Vantage Rock lived up to its name all right! Gaunt rock, pervasive in panorama. Stark and sheer rock. Peaked crags that grabbed the first rays of the sun and wrapped them round their flinty heads. What hard and minatory faces, that plunged to barren earth thousands of feet below!
The sight-seers came in droves, hemming into a promontory that overhung the canyon. A planked platform spaced out over a wide overhang. A railing, high enough to ensure safety, ran along the edge.
One day a sparrow came, alighted on my balcony railing
I, behind stirring curtains, saw her settle down, was glad
That of all the houses standing together, she chose mine.
To rest awhile, and with darting eyes take a second wind.
She saw me, and I knew she would take wing if I blinked
The interior of a clinic- cum- residence. In the front is a living room to the left, and two bedrooms side by side. All rooms have open faces towards the audience. The first bedroom has a door to the living room.
Between the bed rooms is a small space where a door can be seen leading to a third room. The front door on the left opens into the living room on its right, and a glass-fronted office chamber to the left.There is a passage beyond the office to the left with a treatment room on the left, and other rooms to the right.
I am a migrant,
Wife n children
I live in my tent
They in heaven
I drink no water
Eat a little grain
When I’m thirsty
Sip from a drain
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