Voice of India

My people are basically good,
Even if they have to go without food;
They keep enduring burdens in a spate,
Accepting things as a corollary of fate.
They are free to spit and spite as they wish,
Using roads,as rest rooms,as bins for rubbish.

I got my freedom to let them live as they like,
Not bothering about issues growing on a hike.
My people have freedom to work,or work not,
Because freebies reach them fast at their spot.
As the rich run away with their ill gotten money,
Bad debts and N P A s,hit a chase and run,funny.

The aliens who ruled,left me with their cakes and ale,
Letting me reel under the turbulence of rift and wail.
When all my children cried in unison for my liberty,
My pride grew manifold for begetting heirs of dignity.  
When my own sons drain my blood,cutting wounds deep,
My burning womb curses them all,for their morals asleep.
P. Chandrasekaran