When was India born?
Has it ever occurred to you?
The India, you know, that one ...
That still probably exists
Somewhere, among the salt, and
The snow; Within the music and the food
Along the dialects, and the rude
Weathers of innocence lost in greed
And destinies shaped by melancholic moods.
I wander my friend , in a barren field
Of questions, with no end in sight, of the fruit
Or even the tree; forget the seed -
The very seed that sprouted into what
My country is supposed to be.
And if I'm not there
When the dilemma of the brush
Happens to cease,
May you find answers, in the image to be.
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