Its miniscule eyes opened for the first time,
Was blinded by the light from the Cerulean sky,
The air it breathes saturated by the stench,
Of a canine carcass rotting by its side.
Born in a dumpyard of a pervert world,
This pariah of destiny began its wretched life,
Paraphernalia of a pair of hopeless souls,
He crawled, then walked through the lanes of his slum.
Darwin's Law was the first thing he learned,
Fight for thy bread, or thou shalt perish,
Love for him was a chimerical emotion,
Written on billboards of hindi 'fillums'.
He still has flashbacks of the first brawl he had,
As a neophyte urchin on Petkar Street,
When some salacious 'veterans' pilfered his pittance,
He fought them down with his newfound resolve.
From that moment on he never lost his mettle,
Bullied his way up the echeleons of the slum,
Unperturbed by the bludgeonings of fate,
He rose like a pheonix above the scum.
On the slovenly streets of his shantytown
Where every soul is endowed with unremitting woes,
He tested his sinew and fought for every piece of bread,
In the shadow of a hoarding; 'India Shining' it read.
The Order of the Underworld were the lessons he learned,
Th lacerations from his fights were the notes he made,
When the world seems resplendent with a myriad opportunities,
His was a world of obdurate uncertainties.
His metamorphasis in itself is a quixotic tale,
From Slumdog to Slumlord he made his way,
Where rags to riches is still a celluloid dream,
His bestial life was scripted not by men, but fate.
Every time you oblige to your child's say,
Just remember that there are kids out there,
Being pushed to the brink of life itself,
By the Aparthied drawn by our vested deeds.
Their souls disowned by the society they could have served,
Their minds poisoned by rage and despire,
Our nameless slumdog's rise to infamy,
Is a testimony of their rendition to our diabolical self.
Was blinded by the light from the Cerulean sky,
The air it breathes saturated by the stench,
Of a canine carcass rotting by its side.
Born in a dumpyard of a pervert world,
This pariah of destiny began its wretched life,
Paraphernalia of a pair of hopeless souls,
He crawled, then walked through the lanes of his slum.
Darwin's Law was the first thing he learned,
Fight for thy bread, or thou shalt perish,
Love for him was a chimerical emotion,
Written on billboards of hindi 'fillums'.
He still has flashbacks of the first brawl he had,
As a neophyte urchin on Petkar Street,
When some salacious 'veterans' pilfered his pittance,
He fought them down with his newfound resolve.
From that moment on he never lost his mettle,
Bullied his way up the echeleons of the slum,
Unperturbed by the bludgeonings of fate,
He rose like a pheonix above the scum.
On the slovenly streets of his shantytown
Where every soul is endowed with unremitting woes,
He tested his sinew and fought for every piece of bread,
In the shadow of a hoarding; 'India Shining' it read.
The Order of the Underworld were the lessons he learned,
Th lacerations from his fights were the notes he made,
When the world seems resplendent with a myriad opportunities,
His was a world of obdurate uncertainties.
His metamorphasis in itself is a quixotic tale,
From Slumdog to Slumlord he made his way,
Where rags to riches is still a celluloid dream,
His bestial life was scripted not by men, but fate.
Every time you oblige to your child's say,
Just remember that there are kids out there,
Being pushed to the brink of life itself,
By the Aparthied drawn by our vested deeds.
Their souls disowned by the society they could have served,
Their minds poisoned by rage and despire,
Our nameless slumdog's rise to infamy,
Is a testimony of their rendition to our diabolical self.
