In the sun-burnt dark hamlets and thorps
Of the secluded and solitary country,
Far-flung
And scattered over a vast stretch of land
Impregnable and inaccessible,
I saw the dark daughter smiling
From her hut,
The mud-house,
A girl living
And growing up
In scarcity and poverty,
Human want and hunger,
But never complaining against
The destiny she has,
The fate ordained otherwise
In a tabooed society
Of an under-developed nation,
The third-world country.

Bijay Kant Dubey

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