Bharat, once a land of gold!
Where treasuries and intellect overflowed.
Proud of its beauty and potent,
But knew to be modest, and yet bold!
Persians took refuge in her generosity,
But Mughals took it as her stupidity.
She let herself get exploited,
To gradually realize their atrocity!
Fighting with a barbarian,
Let her self-esteem drain.
She accepted her defeat,
To teach them morals in vain!
The classy English man stretched his hand,
And she grasped it hard with all her land.
Pleased to know he had come to her aid,
But soon realized, he just wanted to trade.
It was her moment of weakness,
That portrayed her as worthless.
With one hand he helped,
And the other, he humiliated.
Did she really need his favours?
Or did she want her respect?
She rejected him in every way,
And chased him out on one bright day.
The English left with no other option,
And she celebrated her freedom.
With poverty, illiteracy and corruption,
Over famines and her disintegration.
Then she looked at the cities and the bridges,
The schools, railways, and the power houses.
The English did not come just to rob her,
But had now gone, loathed in grudges.
Could she sit to sulk and regret?
Or raise herself higher with a grit?
She had to grow than ever before,
And show the world, she could offer more!
But even after seventy years,
The English calls her “the land of savages”.
How long more will she take to prove?
“Bharat, was and is the land of gold" !
Your touch is so familiar
