I love my country: India , but
I hate many of its rulers, as
they speak for the poor and
act for  tycoons bellicose, and-
Diversity sighs  in armed Unity;
The selfish corrupted in unity
March ahead on graves crafty.
       I love my country: India , but
August fifteenth :  with freedom,
opened  all devilish forces
out of  Hell to fell all virtues.
Grim faced Buddha smiles
Like a  nuclear Phantom ,his
tears  drip on tomb  of Peace.
No white dove sits on dome
It bleeds in the lap of Buddha.
If birth is the cause of gloom.
who  stops one from bloom?
Dearth of berth clamour for
Death  of birth at the womb.
        I love my country: India , but
Souls are free on lovely Earth
Lay  bodies strain  to survive.
A nominal word equanimity
Gushes in landslide infirmity.
Service becomes self –service,
In black ink sleeps  Socialism.
Fear Neurosis like King Kamsa
Keeps Liberty  behind the bars.
Healthy, wealthy Bharat Matha
Groans in labour room for Santi.
Note: 1). August fifteenth= 15 August 1947 when India  became free from  Briton. 2).Buddha=Gutham Buddha(Prince Sidhardha) who established Buddhism.3).Kamsa= The mythological character , uncle of Lord Krishna who chained even his sister Devaki out of the fear  psychosis. 4),Bharat Matha= Indians consider Bharat/India as their Mother(Matha)-so it is Mother land not Fatherland for them .Santi/Shanti=a Sanskrit word used in Vedas and Upanishads  of India which means Peace or Islam.

Among eight billion choices,

I chose the one whose heart doesn’t beat for me.

I chose the one who wasn’t born for me.

I chose the one who doesn’t even know me.

I wondered why… until one night, I understood.

Because—

He is the Dasharatha Nandana, every girl dreams of.

He is the Devaki Nandana ,every mother longs for.

He is the Rama,the strength every sibling leans on.

He is the Sri Krishna,the friend every Sudhama needs.

He is the dream, that lingers even when I wake.

He is the story, written in every heart.

He is the sun, that brightens the darkest days.

He is the river, that never stops flowing.

He is the wind ,that carries whispered prayers.

He is the word,that even a thousand words fail to define.

He is the nature, embracing endless miracles.

He is the ocean, holding countless mysteries.

He is the light, breaking through the darkness.

He is not mine, yet he belongs to all.

He is not just a person, but a presence .

A force, a legend, a name whispered in every era.

He is beyond dreams, beyond time.

Yet, he is the one my heart recognizes.

A Beloved of the Universe, A Stranger to Me.

A Love Meant for All, But Never for Me.

The Distance Between My Prayer and His Name.

Devotion Without a Destination.