We blast.
I N D I A.
To Mars.
We leap.
Insignificant to the world.
Immaterial to me.
A nation finds utterance.
From directors of projects,
Coconut rapists,
Who offer Aryabhatta at the altar of superstition.
The probe may reach,
It may fail.
To me it is an epoch,
We leapt.
Beyond the coconut minds,
Beyond Tirupati,
Beyond all gods
Into ourselves.
Hardik Mahesh Vaidya
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem