an Ode to Independence

for every being his country is the best

to that person its  always a bit above the rest

after all is  it not  ones own nest  ?

its thoughts would ever fill ones chest

India  to me is a blessed place

full of excuisite  beauty and grace

with  a long history and a hoary past

its lands are spread out far and  vast

it has its tall and snowy peaks

its forests are filled with firs and teaks

its deserts are full of blowing  sands

and its blue  seas embraces its green lands 

it has multihued  languages  cultures and colurs

its subjects are immersed in several labours

but it has a string tying it  all together

like an umblical cord  its mother

A land with many varied thoughts

where   many paths to God are sought

a land filled with many wise sages

going back to the ancient ages .

a country which had been ravaged

conqured over  time  raped and savaged

for centuries  its wealth plundered

but with a  soul that  never surrendered

many came to its shores with greed
robbing it and letting it bleed
ruling it and damning its subjects
filling it with poverty abject

it had overcome all this to get its freedom
and from many little and big kingdoms
it was born an united country proud
to those men and women who brought this  our heads are always  bowed

to those valiant soldiers gaurding our borders
waiting for the enemy marauders
all we can do is to  salute and bow deep
for remember  thier watch makes us reap .

But there are many   enemies within us
the cunning and the conning powermongers
who  are no different from our invaders
they loot and cheat and sell our country like traders

in the name of freedom and democracy
they hold the reins of autocracy
 they play thier puppets and pull the strings
cutting and clipping our  thoughts and wings

they are clever in words cunning in deeds

they reap the spoils of thier seeds

and as our beloved country continues to bleed

our hearts wail and wait for  a change plead

is there a light at the edge of the tunnel

or are we doomed to fall in the funnel

what and where will we find that elusive  turn

before our dear  country succumbs to its burns

From sports to religon they meddle

and as we burn  they play the fiddle

these men and women who muddle

area dangerous and an unsolvable riddle

some  amongst them are men of virtue

but it seems like that  they are far and few

the harbringers of change are split

and thrown into deep and endless pits

and so the story goes on
sixty five years after we were born
eternal hope is the only solace
which we can blissfully embrace

India is too great to fall
for it has never done that at all
so the present devils too  will go one day
and only then   would  India shine with its golden rays