“Go back to your country,
there is where you belong!”
My mind is filled with anguish
for the apathy shown.
Brother, did you forget
we swore to be here
until the sun ceases to shine
and the earth pledges not to revolve?
Do you remember
when the territories were yet to be fragmented,
our hearts sang the verses of inquilaab
together with yours –
the rhythm of which still echoes
in the lands beyond?
We both stood by Gandhi and Bhagat
answering every call,
“Bapa Moriya” I said
when Tilak pleaded for an uproar.
You’ll find the impressions of my footsteps
alongside yours, while marching on the Dandi shore,
and my blood in the soil of Jallianwala
mixed with yours.
When you went to battle the enemy,
your sisters I consoled
and you took my parents as yours
when I died in war.
This is my home, O brother
here is where I belong.
Don’t separate me from our Mother –
In her feet rests my heaven
and the salvation for my soul.
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you too have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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