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This is the India

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At this moment, decades ago
Freed from oppression we were, from a foe
Who came in the guise of promising trade
Who held our people in fear; afraid

We were, afraid of those men who wore
Long, blue robes, who at the fore
Showed the serenity of peace, white were their faces
Which frowned on us, brown faces

Faces that they saw not fit to rule themselves
Faces that they saw to use and oppress
For filling the treasury of the Queen and theirs
So that it may last through generations of heirs

Two centuries, 200 years was their reign
Rain of fire, blood and bone describes their reign
Once a rich country, in constant change
They saw our culture ever so strange

Deeming it sub human, comparing us to animals
Going on to treating us so, filthy animals
We were, to carry their filth
And to carry with it, a heart filled with our guilt

No! Subservience no more!
Loud rang a voice, “Come all ye! To the fore!”
“We flourished in our own rule. Kings of our fate we are”
“Thousands of years we flourished, kingdoms spread wide and far”

“All in our rule. Out of our sacred earth, ye skiving folk!”
“We need not bear your burden, over our own yolk!”
“ Out! We deserve not ye cruelty!”
“Rather you deserve not our hospitality!”

So there ran a war cry, across the country vast
Quicker than to the oppressor’s ears, ever so fast
Did spread the word of self rule,
To drive out these people, who made us their fools.

Year on year, did the struggle last
Put down was the uprising, just as fast
Hundreds of heads did roll, hundreds more bled
Hundreds more shot down as the people fled

From the speeding lead fillets, aimed at their hearts
Aimed at their heads, as they ran ever so fast!
No in cowardice, for our blood knew no fear
Kill one of us, and a hundred shall be here

To strike with a vengeance, thou has’t seen not
These smiling faces, thou once left to rot
Have risen from the embers; a phoenix reborn
Of the ashes, a rage forlorn

Lost for 200 years; of cries fallen on deaf ears
Of children and spouse lost, of unseen fear
Of a symbiotic exchange, turned leech
A leech buried deep in us, grinding us with your sharp teeth

But, in the end ‘twas the products of their own rules
The same brown skinned folk, once their fools
Who made the voices of the masses heard
Ones whom they thought they’d never fear

Were in front of them, showing them the rules that they made
The rules they were ruling us with, were played
Against them; every White one’s fear
Were that they would be driven out of here

Our fertile lands, which they used
Our kind heartedness, which they misused
Our wealth, which they took
Our freedom… Now confined to a book.

A book, by which all claim to live
A book which to all did give
5 Freedoms, twice the number of duties
You see, that is the very beauty

Of the system that we ought to live in
You take your share from the well, more you put in
To keep the well of freedom, our forefathers saw
To be a shining example to the world, which will look in awe

To us, for strength of spirit that kept us from
Going to war for control, to create a storm
For a war destroys more than it wins
Killing thousands of men, kith and kin.

Nonetheless, today in freedom we are
True is the statement. But aren’t we far
From the India; the India that we ought to be
The welcoming party, are all that show the glee

That ought to be on the face of every man
On every woman, child; of every clan
No, we are not that India for which crimson did flow
We are not the India, without that elusive glow

Not as a halo, but as an aura around us all
That tolerant, fair and just people we were all
In a time once forgotten, our humble roots
Are as though non existent, although the shoots

Are long, of girth and strong,
Wither without their nourishment; culture, called wrong
For culture is not what you practice, ‘tis how you are
With your fellow humans, weather near or afar

This is the India of dreams, which needs fulfilling
This is India that in which we ought to be living
This is the India that we can make
If not, this is the India we leave to inherit and further break



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This article has 4 comments. Post your own now!

sakina said...
Sept. 3, 2011 at 3:19 am

This poem is amazing...U've done a brilliant job...And I'm proud to be an Indian...! Jai Hind...!!!

And do you know Anna hazare..???

 
Prathap This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Sept. 4, 2011 at 12:09 am
Thank you very much :)
 
dancestar said...
Aug. 19, 2011 at 10:14 am
this is was very very good...it portrayed very well what our country went through...thank you, it holds such a bitter truth, that all need to hear...gud job!
 
sN()mAan This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Aug. 19, 2011 at 11:21 pm
Thank you very much! And yes it is a bitter truth that needs to be spread.
 
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