They Call me 'chotu'

I am a worker, they call me chotu,
The earth is my home, its where i stay,
I live on the streets, my house has no boundaries,
I sleep when the city sleeps and wake up when the buses blow by,
I am a worker, they call me chotu.

I work in a factory all day all night,
Serve tea to my masters and whosoever works here,
I am on my toes throughout the day,
Fetching things and notes from one floor to the other,
I am a worker, they call me chotu.

I have a generous master who takes good care of me,
I polish his childrens' shoes and he gives me their clothes to wear,
I put back their book after they complete their homework, and they give me a penci an d paper if its not too tough to spare,
I am a worker, they call me chotu.

I pick up their plates and get to eat all what is left,
they also give me a 10 rs note everyday,
I keep collecting the money untill its enough to buy a book,
At times I buy a thin book, at times a thick one but all with colorful covers,
I am a worker, they call me chotu.

I lov to play with my dog, I have named him tommy,
I found him one day, when he was sleeping beside me in the morning,
I buy him milk and feed him well,
At times his friends come over and we all play together,
I am a worker, they call me chotu.

I dont know my age but I am growing tall,
Time has passed by and i have a prized collection of books now,
I look at them every night and then go off to sleep,
Wondering when would I find someone who will teach me to read.
I am a worker, they call me chotu.