Story Of A Postman

Story of a Postman - - - - - - - - - - - - - Now you must be happy For you are no more guilty Absolved of stigma and guilt You have been carrying since You were young and barely thirty Heard it with rapt attention Though he could not believe it As he was transported with emotion To a zone palpable to none Mists of clouds looming on And he was seen shaking With blank eyes wide open And tears gathering to roll down Oh, dad it is a truth Not an iota of lie lying upon Believe me I am your son But never had I stolen Nor have I been born with a mind To plunder the wealth of my nation And for no fault of mine I had to face expulsion Now with youthful days gone I live in memory of yesteryears Where I see smiling faces of my two sons In poverty I lost them And now I wish to join them in heaven Oh, dad everything is over You are now free from stain Justice came late but not in vain Live rest of life with God's grace And forget what happened with no disdain But how can I my son? When I had not stolen Rupees Fifty seven and paise thirty As was the allegation When I was very young and barely thirty Oh, dad I am ashamed And sometimes feel orphaned and cursed Being born in this nation Where crores of rupees siphoned off And rupees fifty seven In a court for thirty years lingers on Till the day you will be left With no energy to react on I kept mum and felt tears moistening my eyes As the story climaxed to an end With no solution foreseen By the son of a postman here in this land