Year after year,
With zestful gear,
The land with tricolour rays celebrates its independence.
The day commemorated with grace,
Speeches in the air,
With promises supple with care,
All it seems just like a vibrant state of affair,
But to utter dismay,
When some pages flickered in a way,
Many go unanswered,
Just like the scribbled scripts of despair,
When counting the agonies of plights
Just being born as a girl child,
Still those criticisms unrepaired,
To cases of dowry, scums of misogyny
Are you aware of the Dalit communities, still fighting for their sustainability?
Somewhere it’s so caged,
Uncanny, yet many enraged,
Is this the independence we claim?
Of the political whims,
Where democracy slashed with hidden fascism means,
To the fragile environment policies,
That cares neither for the future,
Nor of nature and the limited wildlife species,
Is this the independence we claim?
To such dungeons of brutal rapes,
Still, no one knows when a woman can finally walk safely,
Where victims most times bereft of justice,
Despite the long wee hours been put at stake,
Look at the streets full of muck,
With clichés of caste, creed, and racism,
And religion being another weapon of mark,
How unfairly used in the name of spiritualism!
Is this the independence we claim?
Millions of youth unemployed,
With the concept of Atmanirbhar,
Now you say it shall fill the void,
But what about the ocean of sweats already lost?
Swept with repugnance,
Bereft of sheer intelligence,
Yet, year after year,
With zestful gear,
The land with tricolour rays, celebrates its independence,
The day commemorated with grace!