In Parental Nest Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Way lost in grandeur of the ancient past,
On profound epics poets created,
Portraits of culture, hoisting scrolls on mast,
That left you drowned and from getting started.
I know of not one nation, east or west,
That chosen has to live on what has been,
As an old fledgling in parental nest,
There awaits when unexplored fields so green.

Long have ye parroted paeans by rote,
Walked only ways ere walked, not on paths new,
Enough myths of ancient glory to gloat,
Time to hone up your own history's hue!
Be the sea-gull that flies high, spanning earth,
Not one marooned, marvelling heaven's worth.
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There are those that like to live in the reflected glory of the past. And their tribe seems to be on the rise. Granted, the country was great in the ancient past. But what has it done of late? Countries small and big, far and near have left us behind.
This elegy in sonnet form is a lamentation by Mother India.
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Sonnets | 06.07.2017 |