I thought you considered me a friend
You were always nice to me
But I am afraid
That I thought wrong
Well, being wrong has become as common
As India failing to win a global cricket tournament
Especially as far as people are concerned
Thanks to my autism
Though I was not aware of it
When I was in college with you all
I was always seen as different
Well, it is true that I am different
But I was never one of you
I was a lone wolf
Left to fend for myself
At the slightest hint of trouble
You never took me seriously
I was always the problem child
Who just needed to "grow up"
And then everything would be taken care of
It also didn't help
That I was a South Indian
Though my Hindi was decent
You always saw me as a "Madrasi"
But I saw you all as human beings
Not fair-skinned North Indians
Anyway, you must understand one thing
Friendship is not a joke
It is a serious relationship
If you can't be friends after college
Then you can never be friends at all
Don't call me a friend
And then take me for granted
Leaving me to drown
In a pool of my deepest insecurities
Which, by the way
Would never have been created in the first place
Had you possessed the guts
To be honest with me
Right from the start
Instead of playing your precious games
Just call me an acquaintance
And be done with it
Full stop

I am the voice,
Of the fifteen year-old who wipes away her dreams, weaning her baby boy

I am the shudder,
Of the woman who hurries down the alleyway pulling her coat around tighter, afraid

I am the smile,
tugging the lips of a little boy, at the burst of fireworks, on a Diwali night

I am the whimper,
Of the boy on fire, alight by those who think patriotism means uniformity

I am the red bindi, the orange putka, the white cross, the green burka
I am the Kashmiri, the Madrasi, the Punjabi, the Gujarati,
North, South, Madhya whichever way I go I breathe the bharatha

I am the delight,
Of the saffron sarees, and the cinnamon wafts with pani pooris

I am the cry,
Of the drop out whose artwork lay in the cinders of childhood dreams

I am the tears,
Of the betrayed by the soothing words of political promises that were never held

I am the spirit
Of Ghandi, of Bose, of Tagore, peace woven in literature, histories’ waves that never recede

I am the song in all our souls,
Singing, we are India, in all our flaws and all our colours,

Together, we,
Roll up our sleeves, envision brighter smiles for when the sun touches our India tomorrow,
And we, the voices, sing in unison,
And look towards the skies,
In Hope.