Under Delhi's cloudless, cerulean blue sky,
Sporting a victorious orange turban,
Walked to his seat through India Gate,
With long, confident steps,
On Republic Day 2019.
Huge jet aircrafts hurtled through Delhi's cloudless, cerulean blue sky,
Through spirals of white smoke,
Huge tanks, deadly missiles, grand regiments, acrobatics, happy, smiling faces,
Brave people, Legacy of Mahatma Gandhi, colorful tableaux, awards, weeping widows,
All these completed the big portrait
Of our Republic Day 2019.
Yes, all this and more, we saw on Television,
We, the passive, silent, hapless ones,
With zero percent reservations.
Soon, the show ended,
And we were force-fed a short political cartoon film
On our National Holiday of Republic Day 2019.
The film had our Leader as the hero,
Boastful, arrogant, wearing a smug, confident smile,
Jumping around, somersaulting happily,
While the floundering, clueless Opposition,
A bunch of selfish, corrupt, dynastic leaders
Campaigned with a single-minded devotion for replacement of our Leader…
Puzzled, her mind hazy, while gazing upwards at Delhi's cloudless, cerulean blue sky,
My daughter asked, "Mom, who do you think will be our next Prime Minister? "
I said, "We have no other choice, dearest.
Next year, too, I guess, India Gate will witness the same orange turban.
So, forget it; let's just enjoy our today, the cloudless, cerulean blue sky,
The National Holiday of Republic Day 2019."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem