The silent song
in the womb of a woman brave
lies a child who silently sings
a song for life unknown
in hope that some day will bring
in minds yours and mine
that this age was not so fine
as was made out to be
by spineless sold out scribes
with their nightly diatribes
a song for souls who cried
for dignity as they walked home
with feet caked with blood
which mixed with the earth
that an emperor calls mother
in a book that seeks to sanitise
his stained hands
a song for the decisions taken
in haste arrogant and unrepentant
by the emperor
perched in a chickpea tree
led there by his blind devotee
its upto us to ensure
the child grows fearless with head held high
its upto us to ensure
the silent song is heard
in every street, on every hill
and shame the wigs which have sought to bar
this little bird
and the silent song of freedom
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P.S. Thank you Gurudev and Maya
