My thoughts are rooted
Down and deep,
Where my mother keeps on crying
For the problems she keeps.
She had witnessed the past-
Of battles fought out of love and thirst,
Lives lost for the sake of her freedom that was kept in bond.
But when the past was cured
From the foreign threat that it endured, her soil got infected too soon
by her own children who were
Once a priceless boon.
She saw the little girls being caged
When their wings were chopped off
Before it knew how to fly through
The clouds of hopes and smell the soil of freedom unknown ;
Such pain did not drain her blood
In fact, it was enough to make her heart rot
When her natives made laws that were
Partial and wrong
Only meant for the rich ones.
For history had seen
The mother spent tears in pain
For the struggle of the needy daughters and sons.
Such pain must have been more
Hurting than her history soaked in blood
But only if Future vouch
For the correction of the Present sins-
Our mother can then take her
Breathe in relief,
She will then join in our independence
That was awaited long,
And be lost in of Tagore's melodious song.