When This Activist Dies

Indian Flag(A breathtaking story of the current political revolution in India)

Land which boasted a culture so diverse,
Was once struck by the quake of a curse
Little…did people know,
The crust beneath them moved so slow,
From the political craters,
Emerged the nation haters
Some looked like goons and the others baboons,
They all brought with them, the tremors of doom

The hooligans were so crook-ed, that with guns they shoot-ed,
Every inch of the land was left barren and looted
Knowing their character was all uprooted,
Their intentions were still…only mooted

I cribbed and you cried,
That things will never be right
Then there were others who were much more wise,
Coz they knew exactly where the power lies

To fight the goons they arise with brooms,
In the hands of corrupt their destiny looms
While we sit in our rooms in the heat of noon,
We fail to see how deep are their wounds

Then there was time, of the changed tides,
When tables turned, and there was nothing left to hide
But the black-book of fiefdom was looked up again,
And a dance of illusion was weaved again
The nation sang and hallucinated,
In the name of a devil who spitted venom unabated

An activist learned that sticks dont’ hurt,
But the slap of a common man on his face still burns
Shattered by hypocrisy…of the common man you claim to be
He could have run away…and simply ceased to be
Your piteous state is the reason he survives
What will happen when this activist dies

So when time is right, don’t deny your right
Look in the shadow for hope of light
Coz never for you, will anyone rise
I wonder what will happen, when this activist dies

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