Saturday, August 15, 2009

As the Sun went down the Sea,
A friend quizzed me in surprise,
"Do you know why the Sun rises
After every tiring Eve, And
A long serene slumber?
...He rises every Dawn only to see
A Nation called India!"
Yes, the Nation of my Heart.

"Shouldn't we write an ode,
An ode to our Nation?
The Nation of our Heart?"
We took out long sheets of Paper
And sharpened our Pencils,
We scratched our heads,
And exchanged views and drinks.
The night passed, yet
The Papers remain unfilled.
We scribbled a lot, but threw them all,
There was something lacking in us

She, whose Water runs through my veins,
She, who gave me the Culture,
The Heritage that I proudly carry
And call myself, an Indian.
Does an Ode suffice for Her Greatness?
Do a few lines in arbit thought
Answer for Her Mightiness?

I sit back and close my Eyes,
"O Mother! What have I done for You?
You, who gave me this Heritage
That I often felt for a burden.
Often had I disliked Your Soil,
Often did I say You were Poor.
I saw distant Neighbours

And felt beguiled by their culture.
I left You, for Their sake,
And here I am, today, deprived!
I gained a lot here,
I became a part of Their Culture,
Yet, I remain distraught,
I couldn't sing a few lines in Your Praise,
And the Papers remain unfulfilled."

"If the God Above wishes to give me
A New Life, a New Beginning,
I would only choose You, My Mother,
For every birth I take on Earth.
The Nation of My Heart."

- Ravi Akundi