India Of Our Dreams

"When the caged, extraordinary golden bird was released decades ago its sweet song was heard all over the world,

She was as fresh as if hatched from her warm hard shell, she was now a woman and not anymore a girl...

She always preferred peace, she still prefers it above all,

But now the acid rains of inhumanity burns her wings after all...

She is wisdom, she is ancient, she is power, she is conscious, she is yet humble,

There are her convicts waiting to cut her wings, but she roars as if she is a lioness; yet not causing any trouble...

The golden bird is awaiting her gloriousness to restore, the starvation, desperation, injustice makes her wait on the edge of a cliff as if to take away her life,

The people just pass by and watch and wait and observe talking aloud their complaints, their wants, as their inefficiency and filthy hearts are eager to give her a cut of a sharp knife...

But I see, the time has risen, risen, risen again my fellow companions,

The time is not up to catch the golden bird if she falls down, 

The time is not down to hold the golden bird-like a baby if she can't fly enough,

The time is here, the time is here, the time for your minds to align with our reality of harshness,

Give, Grant, Gift all that you can with purest hearts our - happiness..."