The story of Nitinpur

Nanda Baul left-
Maybe not so much.
The world is moving - moving in its own language,
Nothing has stopped - nothing has changed.

The slum behind the station,
Many ordinary faces of the world,
The shuffling of the railway carriages and the cries of tears,
With the surprise of Nanda Baul's love story.

Sadness was in the words,
There were tears - but not sadness because he was alive.
Maybe Nanda Baul is gone to some other tune,
Another village - a new world of a new language.

Being alive wants to change,
They search for new tunes in the melody of love,
Consort of blue without the sky,
Maybe find yourself.

Our stories change the stories of the sky,
We are Nanda Baul, in our language,
Random talk of love in the afternoon of the game,
The new sky of peacock dancing is in our sky.

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