I have taken a few poetic liberties in all the poems on you, by you, for you!
I crave your pardon if I have crossed any limits.
To my limited knowledge, no one has shown the real, everyday U.G. in a lyrical form in English, the link language. These are:
2) The front seat of the car is his place of choice,
Says vehicles pass through him, with nonchalant poise,
He has no problem with pollution and noise,
He makes his point in a strident voice!
3) Does not like us sitting on the ground,
"No differences here," is the word going round,
He regularly eats triple cream without gaining a pound,
He chided me gently, "It is not Om, but the sound of silence all round!"
4) Five kilos of luggage is all he carries,
Has empathy for ladies clad in sarees,
Tarries no task and no question he parries,
Harries one and all with a schedule that regularly varies!
5) Makes do with two pairs of clothes,
Hoarding things he certainly loathes,
I luckily get to see the glands' growths,
He thoroughly rejects people making oaths!
6) He lies in bed like a fetus curled,
Toes locked, allowing no energy into the world,
Uses no comb, comes out with a mane unfurled,
His court is a furnace, poor mortals tested by being hurled!
7) The world calls him a cosmic naxalite,
Don't we all know that he is a spiritual dynamite,
Travels faster than light, a blinding meteorite,
Yet he is cool as a full moon on a starlit night!
8) Rises to greet the visitors who come to see,
Sets his own agenda, at a breath-taking spree,
Washes his own clothes, so simple is he,
Lives in the active present, a child of nature ever so free!