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Freedom

Hundred years ago, an Indian baby had been born
He had inhaled the air of an enslaved land
“I pray he sees better times,” the mother had said
While holding him closely with her hand.

The nation was then under a foreign rule
Its people were slaves in their own kingdom
They had to work towards glorifying a foreign nation
And they dreamt the usual dream of freedom.

The brave Indian boy along with others
Lost his life in the struggle to free the motherland
No other baby would be born to serve
No foreigner would walk a ruler upon their sand.

Years later, another Indian baby opened his eyes
And inhaled the air of the free land
“I pray he gets all that he wants in life,” said the mother
As he was passed from hand to hand.

The child played on the Indian soil
He got educated in the Indian way
He had the freedom to do what he chose to
He could express what he wished to say.

The boy read about the struggle for freedom
He learnt the details off his history books
While the people he studied about, peeped out
To see how independent India looks.

Through the dusty pages of the history books
Our ancestors saw how far we had arrived
While the Indian boy got all he wanted
And gradually, into success he dived.

He earned enough to live a better life
Than many who struggled to make ends meet
He thought he was meant for greater places
Than the still-developing land under his feet.

He drove past the slums, the beggars on the stations
He screwed up his nose at places which smelled
He looked inferiorly at his country’s products
“I need to be free from this place,” he yelled.

The boy, now a man packed his bags
Said his goodbyes and boarded the airplane
The people from the dusty pages saw him leave
And wondered if they had died in vain.

The Indian had gone under a foreign rule
He was willing to be a slave of another kingdom
He would work towards glorifying a foreign nation
Has this become the Indian dream of freedom?

The motherland waits patiently each day
For all its children that left it for personal gain
The native soil remembers their tender hands
Which are now adorned with a foreign chain.











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