The mansion was tall, with wide lanes,
with white marbles and shining panes,
with a perfection so unique, and mesmerising
And a perfect window to capture the perfect view
of the sun fading out and each new day, rising...
The people inside, indeed were rich,
clad in gold and shining stones,
and famous jamdani and silk,
had rules, about where to sit and where to dine,
and when to laugh and when to cry...
and upon violating, looked upon by
corner eyes, with their minds,
commenting upon how mannerless and illiterate they were..
People think servants are poor,
But those inside cuddled themselves in warmth
of those blankets given, as a part of their salary.
I lived inside,
and noticed how wide, their list was of those do's and don'ts
and as I returned to my kutcha house,
I slept a sound sleep dreaming of how amazing my life is...
Maybe I had longed for a mansion,
and riches, and pounds,
But the place I visited it seemed,
Had lots of luxuries and no place for comfort...