With apologies to Rabindranath Tagore for
the temerity of penning a travesty of his wistful poem “ Where the mind is
without fear….”
Seventy years hence
We paid with blood to keep our tryst with
destiny
Somewhere down the road, we lost our way
Into a dark forest of untruth, terror and
barbarianism
Minds caved in to fear and few heads can be
held high
Knowledge is distorted
The country
is being broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Words come from depths of darkness
There
is a tireless striving towards power and gain
The clear stream of reason has long lost its
way
Into the dreary desert sand of regressive
habits.
The mind is led backward by parochialism
Into ever-narrowing thought and action
How many Augusts more, Gurudev,
Will it take for my county to awake?
I want to celebrate my Independence….
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