The Language

My uncle criticized me ‘You write pretty well In Hindi or Urdu, and Better can be explained In the language on breath It is in our atmosphere And felt, it is every where The fragrance and the hue’ 'I know pretty well language within me swells Like a pregnant' People filled with pride When they speak, like a blithe They praise and welcome Where ever I go. Those imitate like English and Speaking Hinglish or Urdlish I hate ….. Still we are slave Saliva of slavery drools Master has gifted while we enslaved To interact with the slave I don’t want to speak like a slave But like a master, as they speak English I wanted to speak I don't spoil the language Language must be spoken like a language 'Language is whose property? '