Beloved by Sukanto Bhattyacharjee

I left you in the midst of poverty, Threw you into the flames of famine, By storm and flood, by the painful misery of plagues Your existence was repeatedly endangered. And I but ran from one battlefield to another. I know not if you are alive today, Starved during famine or drowned in the flood I know not. Yet I write to you today, write with hope undimmed: The time has come to return home. I know, not a soul is waiting for me In garlands and flags, lamps and on Mars; I know, not a pair of lips will part in welcome Heroism will not be rewarded by the collective happiness. Yet, a heart will dance to the beat of my presence, Your heart.