like a rainbow, filled with colorful bounty,
a complete mix, of color, race, and creed
India, eaten up by its people's greed.
India, where we still have power cuts,
India, where you get help without ifs and buts,
India, where you have taxis and autos
India, where people still live in ghettos.
India, where there is a festival for every season,
India, where we celebrate without any reason.
India, of the Hindu, the Muslim, the Sikh,
India, of the Christian, the Buddhist, the Jain - have your pick
A middle-aged mother, worried and harried,
by her own son's and daughter's, who are married
to the thought of robbing her grace,
her honor, integrity and wipe democracy off its face.
A land of culture soon to be lost
A land of love soon to be turned to frost
A land where the love of art
still beats in every heart.
India, my country, my dearest little country,
A torn and patched up piece of saaree,
India, for which I still have hope
for a better destiny, is it hoping against hope?
India, filled with many tongues,
to convey the same word we have many dhangs
India my home, my nest, my grave
India, one I hope to save.
One day India will be free,
that day will come, you shall soon see,
when it is free of the fight between mosque and temple,
one day it will be free, of its own people.
No comments:
Post a Comment