A poem on indepence – Upashna

My nation sings a mellifluous song
reminiscing the years bygone
she unties her locks and swivels around
brimming with ecstasy and joy.
She bathes herself
in the heat of the South,
the sun bounteous on her tawny skin.
She treads the woods,the Sunderbans
her garrulous childlike laughs
echoing the serenity.
She sits by the Ganges
hands crossed into a knot
melancholia seeps in
bringing with it
a wave of ‘inqulabs’
unwavering and assertive
as the Himalayas standing tall.
The sky weeps tears of joy and grief
the undaunted souls who gave up their breath,
embracing the soil
painting it red.
She hums in reverie
a note of thanks,
the widow’s, the old and the dead.
She casts aside,the robe she wore
the tricolour cloth she drapes.
The saffron of valour
the chaste white
and the lushness of green she wears.
With head held high
an air of prowess
I am an Indian
Say I .

© Wordpolitics

online at: https://eupashnah.wordpress.com/

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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