INDEPENDENT AGAIN

At the stroke of midnight, they aspired to set it right;

what a bunch of invaders had undone.

White, white men, from the land of Big Ben,

humbly fled left and right.

But what was to befall the golden bird,

none could anticipate;

for the freedom was new – orange, white, green and blue,

the colours were proudly etched.

Seventy years gone,

the light of freedom burning cold,

yet the bearers of the torch won’t feed it’s flame.

Hands in other’s pocket, blind to own affairs;

rusted mettle of honest men.

For to ignore the corrupted, is to partake of their sins;

and to fear them otherwise, is to be willingly killed.

Though who would change it all?

for most of the men have their souls sold,

and freedom is just another golden cage.

Rat-tat-tat!

the knock on our sleeping hearts – that’s what we need.

To lift the shroud on our diminishing conscience,

to rehabilitate our blind eye to worsening things.

To feel the pain of the Indian girl,

being preyed upon in our unprotected streets;

to hold her hand to the light,

than chain her to moralistic whims.

Mother, sister, daughter-sacrificial lamb, whatever;

let’s start teaching her, first to be her’s.

To want change, and to be the changemakers;

than to comment brashly at digital screens.

To stand for deserved than reserved,

and bring back merit fleeing overseas.

For the freedom is brought, but the struggle forgot;

birthing callous ways of country beings.

What do we do?

Just begin to do.

Start recruiting flickering Indian hearts,

for its time to channel flickers to flame,

and warm the freedom torch into a raging fire –

Be Independent again!

Jai Hind,

Parnini 🙂

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