Bloodied Memories: The Tragic Tale of Jallianwala Bagh Massacre

In the land of Punjab, where the fields are gold,

Lies a story of bloodshed, untold and bold.

The year was 1919, a day to dread,

When the Jallianwala Bagh turned red.

The British Raj, with its iron fist,

Had banned all protests, but the people resisted.

They gathered in the park, the brave and the bold,

Not knowing that their fate had been sold.

As the clock struck five, the air grew tense,

And the silence was broken by gunfire immense.

The soldiers had arrived, with rifles in hand,

And in a moment of madness, they opened command.

The people were trapped, with no way to escape,

As the bullets flew, bodies fell in shape.

Women and children, old and young,

None were spared, as the madness had begun.

The echoes of screams still ring in the air,

The wounds are deep, and the scars still bear.

For the Jallianwala Bagh massacre,

Left an indelible mark on our history's ledger.

The aftershock of the tragedy can still be felt,

In the streets of Amritsar, where the blood was spilled.

The heart of the city bears witness to the pain,

And the memory of that day remains forever.

But the people of Punjab, they rose from the ashes,

Their spirit was unbroken, their will un smashed.

They fought for their freedom, with courage and might,

And won their independence, with pride in their sight.

So let us remember those who fell that day,

Their sacrifice was not in vain, as we shall say.

For the Jallianwala Bagh massacre,

It shall never be forgotten and always be remembered.

The aftershock of the tragedy can still be felt,

In the streets of Amritsar, where the blood was spilled.

But the courage of the people shall forever remain,

And their triumphs shall forever inspire again.