What a marvelous country is my India,
how hardworking is not my nation,
everywhere are our people, rushing to work
morning, evening and even on night shifts;
they rush to work in over-crowded trains
they rush to work in old buses
that even breakdown midway;
but no one ever shows their frustrations.
no one ever holds any animosity in their humble hearts
as life is a big and long portrait which every Indian
fills with colors of joy and with our spectacular culture
which gets well depicted on our every Republic Day.
Suddenly came this violence triggered by farmers
who suddenly lost their age-old tradition of patience;
how could anyone so loyal ever resort to tarnishing
my country's repute, my country's magnificence?
how can anyone ever forgive themselves
how can anyone ever forget the futility
of such sordid actions which were so fearsome
as so many on the streets kept running helter-skelter
trying to save themselves from harm and injury.
Yet my country shall forever uphold its dignity,
my country will always have its admiration
as one thorn cannot destroy a rose so beautiful;
it is those who have played their impudence
will lose their own sense of pride and esteem;
and as a country belongs to those who revere it,
our country belongs to those who are patriotic;
our fields belong to our farmers and not to our foes,
so how could anyone be an enemy
of one's own soil, one's own land, one's own country
which is our own birthplace?
In it's bosom you have also nested, slept,
awakened each morning, toiled in those fields
which have fed you with honesty, with dedication
whether came rain or sunshine
and in return how could you be so offensive?
it made my country shed tears of sentiment
that as she reared you, she never expected you
to be unruly, unfaithful, unworthy of its shelter
as my country is my mother and yours,
my country is valuable to me as much as my mother
and a mother and child always have a bond
of dedication, mutual respect and commitment
that they shall forever take care of each other
whether it is the mountains that separate them
or whether it is the dark clouds that divide them;
to be worthy of each other's love and appreciation
they always abide in harmony and greatness of unity;
so remember, our country is our mother
our country is valuable to us as much as our mother
and until we are in it's bosom
to respect it and honor it is our duty.
Story - Line: Chaos prevailed in Delhi on 72nd Republic Day on 26/1/21, as a 'tractor rally' called by farmers demanding the repeal of new farm laws turned violent. Policemen were seen running or taking cover behind vehicles as farmers brandished sticks and rammed their tractors into the buses parked by police.
Farmers should resolve their problems amicably and legally and not resort to depicting to the world a violent nature as our farmers are our food producers and a hardworking community.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem