When the metro roared and the buildings grew, I walked the mud path, broke the queue. My ribs are bamboo—bent but strong, my song is the rickshaw’s pull-along song.

(After a line from Mamata Banerjee’s poem "Ami Bangla Bolchi")

They asked me, "Why do you hold so tight?" I said, "Because the storm has no right to drown a child’s first alphabet, or wash the field where the promise is set."

So let the thunder roll and spit— I am the hand that will not quit. Not just a shield, not just a plea— I am Bengal’s audacity.

Poem By Mamata Banerjee -

When the metro roared and the buildings grew, I walked the mud path, broke the queue. My ribs are bamboo—bent but strong, my song is the rickshaw’s pull-along song.

(After a line from Mamata Banerjee’s poem "Ami Bangla Bolchi") poem by mamata banerjee

They asked me, "Why do you hold so tight?" I said, "Because the storm has no right to drown a child’s first alphabet, or wash the field where the promise is set." When the metro roared and the buildings grew,

So let the thunder roll and spit— I am the hand that will not quit. Not just a shield, not just a plea— I am Bengal’s audacity. I walked the mud path