A hymn to mother India

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

It's a patriotic poem, an adoration of India, personified as a Goddess, the savior of her people.


India, the savior

Sands of time fall on and on,
Time runs from morn to dawn,

Empires rise and kingdoms fall,
Their names echoing in history's hall,

With time, continents turn to dust,
Everyday we witness numerous lives' last,

Yet gleaming among all those,
Remains a land, redder than rose,

Whiter than clouds, milkier than fog,
A nation ever gleaming throughout time's log,

Oh mother, thou art the greatest of lands,
Thy Aryan sons forever fold their hands,

To salute thee, oh ever-adored one,
Bless thy sons, Aryan and Dravidian,

Damaged by Mughals, Stampeded by Pathans,
Fragmented by warriors of the Imperial France,

Partitioned by the English, yet thou stand,
'tis why we praise thee, oh magnificent land!

Savior of the humble, protector of the weak,
Symbolizes thy power, Red Fort's every brick,

Babbling of water of the Himalayan springs,
Be tuneful chanting of thy Sanskrit Hymns,

Thy beautiful name, of mother of those,
Who be thy children; even time's arrows

Couldn't piece thy power so great,
Uncountable invaders couldn't seal thy fate,

The Himayalas be thy glacial crown,
The Vindhyas be thy earthly throne,

Arunachal be thy sword, Gujarat be thy shield,
Thy crystal arrows be Uttarakhand's highest field,

Carry thy charm abroad, returning Monsoon rains,
Arising from dews, in Himalayan forests dense,

Neither Armies of Spain, nor the English chains,
Could captivate thy shadowy fields and glens,

Thy billion sons salute thy lotus feet,
As golden rays of the rising Sun greet

Thy eastern Arunachal's frozen lands,
A tune rises from Rajasthan's sands,

A prayer of the morn, to adore thee,
Reaches The Himalayas, shrouded with mystery,

Depths of Surdarbanas forever glow,
As in sky, thy tuned prayers blow,

Forever sings of thee every Arya,
Oh great Goddess, oh mother Indenia!

Oh mother, bless those noble sons of thine,
Whose golden names be ever on shine,

Each of whom sacrificed his Life's truth,
To free thy sons, from tyrannical strife!

Waves of invaders from the distant west,
Couldn't breach thy walls so great!

Blessed are those, whom thou did bless,
Who evangelized the great Aryan race!

Oh mother, those who died for thee,
Shall rise again, throughout eternity,

To avenge those, who attack thy land,
Himalayan snow and Thor's sand,

May empower us all, oh queen of world,
Standing before thy throne, the Vindhya pearled

We salute thee; from the far Elora caves,
To Bay of Bengal, thy rhythm waves...

Names of thy great sons, be echoed with thy name,
Be nourished by thy blessing, Amar Jawan's eternal flame...

Hearts of nations turn wild and frail,
But for eternity, rings the holy bell,

Of thy sacred name, chanted ashore by those
Who died for thee, protecting thy land from foes,

Great Arya shall arise, by thy noble blessings,
May thy omnipotent hand, bejeweled with rings

Shower mercy upon us, thy every Indian son,
May thee bless all, every human to be born.

Those who died for thee, leaving India to mourn,
Are standing invisible, besides thy golden throne,

They witness India's course, empower those all,
Who fight for thy cause, from Winter to Fall.

May the great Aryan Triune bless thee,
For ages and ages, throughout the eternity,

May the Vedic Gods empower our land,
To face any disaster, forever to stand,

Emboldened, cherished, rejuvenated by thy charm,
Help us erase, who willingly harm

Life's joy and continuity; oh greatest of lands,
World stands before thee, with folded hands!

Salutations and even more salutations to thee,
May we remain ever, in thee with glee!

Submitted: September 24, 2012

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