70 years of Indian Independence


The freedom brought many homes

It threw away many too

Out of homes;

Sushwant was only eight

When trying to escape arson

And violence , she came across most horrendous things-

A mother asking her son to drown her in a river,

A small pond having corpses floating,

A woman cutting the cord that held her new born with a stick of sugarcane;

Seventy years after Sushwant’s eyes still hurt

And salty taste comes to her lips from eyes.

The Gallery of hope: a locomotive train

In one huge single frame the locomotive train stands,

Ready to go as if,

Smoke coming out of its nose,

Soon perhaps the rumble will be heard over the tracks,

Its roof has people- thousands sitting with tired

Yet expectant looks,

Its windows have faces- innumerable.


She had come from the kingdom Dressed like a fairy,

Having a drum in her belly

To store memory

2 KB .

(*HEC2M : India’s first computer imported from U.K.)

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