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