I'm, too, Indian.

Religion isn't my skin, caste,

register.

I grow with branches,
Exhaling in the air,

Inhaling.

You too blow in it.

In your sky, I sparkle;
In the pond I don't sprout.


My minarets are massive,
Historical,

Your assest.

I'm too Indian.

I recite the national song
In the file of every citizen.

Lynching cannot divest me
Of my last bed in its land.

I'm too Indian.