Poem: Discovery of Freedom

Not until

the kids, watching over the puny puddles, 

adorned like little Gandhi and Nehru prototypes,

holding high the plastic tricolored flags,

march to the spirited celebration

en route to take over the integral nation

do we realize, we have a future.

Not until

the women, clad statuesque ethnic apparels,

draped in off-white sarees, tinkling tricolored bangles,

untangling every quandary off her braid, 

exhibiting the vigour tenacity and enlightening spark,

portray the tapestry of being a matriarch 

do we realize, we still have dignity.

Not until

the Goosebumps climb our spines

while listening to the patriotic anthems

playing in every station boasting a tricolored logo,

vicariously feeling every word in the lyric

warbling about the events so historic 

do we realize, we now own freedom. 

Not until 

the leader, whom we ridicule the most,

enthusiastically repeating the sixty-year-old speech,

after heaving the tricolored emblem,

sets free the captured flowers to shower

to let the breeze spread the fervent savour 

do we realize, 

We are Indians. 

-Ashish

A very Happy Independence to all the readers and fellow-bloggers.