Hardik Vaidya

Rookie - 314 Points (26 Dec 1969, I won't be dead till you know I am alive. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

My Plea To The Powerful In A Democracy.I Am Begging For Your Mercy. - Poem by Hardik Vaidya

I am tired of India.
The india that I was not born in.
The India that is at daggers end.
The India which refuses to see its spirits blend.
The India which is obsessed with just one colour.
The India that ignores the rainbows splendour.
The India that has gone dwarf.
The India that was never my country of soul.
Citizenship is not by birth.
Citizenship is not by decree.
In the land of Arya's Citizenship is by your souls decree.
For the sake of The Lord who values our salt,
Change before I die in a land foreign and not known,
Because the least I deserve as a bug that flew anon,
On the dungs of your roads,
And on the gutters of your moats,
I crave for your wisdom,
Be mine, be me, be India for once before we destroy,
Not China, Pakistan or another perceived lower being,
Let us for once be what we want to be,
Win Delhi, win it by right,
Don't for heavens sake, win it on the corpse of my rotting twilight.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about My Plea To The Powerful In A Democracy.I Am Begging For Your Mercy. by Hardik Vaidya

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Sunday, March 10, 2013



[Hata Bildir]