Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for your sisters and your daughters who are being savagely and shamelessly paraded stark naked in full glare of wretched, monstrous, ogling, heartless men to satiate their sadistic lust and pleasures.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for your political leaders who choose to bury their heads like ostriches in the sand, feigning ignorance and maintaining a stoic silence, until the grim truth surfaces and public outrage forces them out of their lassitude and dumbness, deafness and blindness.
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Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for your mighty land that has brought forth legendary luminaries such as the celebrated poet Rabindranath Tagore who wrote and recited: “Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high…Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my Country awake.” However, this blessed land is soaked and smeared in brutality and blood, a sad indication of humanity at its lowest ebb in a country that celebrates the rich and exquisite tapestry of ‘unity in diversity’. The stark reality shudders and sways us to hang our heads in shame.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for your sons and daughters, who, at the time of elections, being bewitched and mesmerized with tall promises and perks, anaesthetize their conscience and sell their votes and along with them their souls, in favour of rapists, butchers, scamsters, extortionists and looters, who apparently have no qualms of conscience to thrive, as parasites, on the sweat and blood of the poor, the voiceless and the vulnerable.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for those who are supposed to be the guardians of the citizenry, who, instead of protecting those under their care, are shockingly and contemptibly seen to turn the other way and disdainfully play the fiddle, like Nero, while the nation burns, and with it the heart and soul of the motherland bleeds.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for the innocent and defenceless victims of arson, anarchy and crimes of unspeakable nature, perpetuated by unscrupulous hate mongers and opportunists in the name of religion, ethnicity, caste, colour and other man-made boundaries to suit their own narrow-narcissistic designs.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for your vulnerable children, particularly those belonging to the marginalized minorities who are being treated as children of a lesser god and inhumanely brutalized, wounded and scarred by the merciless marauding mercenaries backed by the powers that be, to further their pernicious political plans for power and position.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for peace, healing and confidence building efforts between brother and brother and between sister and sister who have been sadly and vilely pitted against each other, to satisfy the ominous designs of those manoeuvring to stay in power, by unleashing the dextrous and draconian ploy of ‘divide and rule’.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry over the pillage and plunder of the natural resources abounding in our motherland, to satisfy the unbridled greed and selfish vested interests of the few corporates and the multi-billionaires.
Don’t cry for me, India, but cry for restoration of the beautiful mosaic of communal harmony and fraternal co-existence between communities that has been the hallmark of our common home. This unique fabric of a united, sovereign, socialist, secular, democratic India is sought to be shredded to pieces with a myopic, fascist and vicious agenda of one nation, one language, one religion, and so on.
