The Indian

I was born and brought up in a poor field, nobody to care and nobody to feed. 

Seasons flew and I was grown, seeing my place; Temptations took me around the place and I came to know my nation.

Somebody teased I have no identity, but people keep saying this is India; I was dumbstruck to see a naughty kid pointing me as the anonymous.

To me, who am I was really a big question, threaded with tears and tears only; I was sure this is India and I was sure I am an Indian, that's what I knew.

I kept murmuring the new identity, like it has brought me some pleasure, the pleasure of a newly known Indian!