The Golden Bird

Temples, idols, flowers, and Sun

There was a time when India was the golden one

Long ago, but not in a distant land

This tale is of the country which was once called the Golden Bird.

 

Centuries past, when forts spread vast

Merchants galore, with bangles and earrings hanging from a cart

Civilizations grew, but not too far

Rich capitals and even richer kings, about whom were created lores

But all that came to a pause when the Whites docked their ships upon the shores

 

Torment and torture and tyranny spread wide

Houses were burnt and children cried

The Battle of Buxar, the Battle of Plassey

No one knew for sure now, as blurred were the lines

 

Torment of the East spread to the West, and then everywhere

The East India Company had started the British phase

Rulers forfeited, heroes disappeared

Will there be anyone who would save them from this craze?

 

They fought, they rebelled, but the radicals were held

They struck, they tried, anyone who opposed died

Udham Singh served revenge on a cold platter

Bose versus the British, so went the matter

 

Gandhi took the path to peace

Naoroji served the sermons

Awaiting the time to make their move,

The citizens slowly sparked the fire.

 

Riots happened, protests were held

And into the freedom movement, the citizens delved.

Modern buildings and Indigo farms

Were destroyed by ammunition and arms

 

The Revolt of 1857, brought upon a new age

No longer did anyone tolerate the rage

The British crowd control failed, but Indians did not

Onwards, they marched, towards a new dawn

 

Gone was the darkness which came with the East India Company’s tyranny

A new hope emerged in the light of a new day

The Whites were weakened in the World War Two

The path to freedom opened anew

 

Meetings were held, parties were formed

A brand new era was about to begin

Negotiations happened and peace was restored

This was the tale of the country which was once called the Golden Bird

-Tarini

Advertisements

Life Ain’t No Story Book Kid 

Life ain’t no storybook kid,

With fairies in magical worlds,
Or angles in the heavens above,

With laced gowns and netted viels,

Or crystal diadems and pearls beneath,

The ocean so blue and vast,

Talking fish and shrimps and sharks,

The oysters with eyes, the corals so bright.

With witches in caps and potions that 

Make you invincible.

With spells for all kinds of chores ,

With creatures never seen before,

Misty clouds and giant peaches,

Abandoned islands and empty beaches.

There ain’t no golden bird or egg,

There ain’t no monster with three heads,

No vampires dripping blood, 

No wands made of English oak wood.

No zombies, no giants, no huge bumble bees,

No wondrous 25th century technology. 

No hoverboards to fly on, 

No brooms to ride,

No owls with letters,

No god of the skies.

There ain’t no dementors, 

There ain’t no centaurs, 

There ain’t no demigods, witches or wizards. 

No damsel in distress, no prince with a sword, 

No tower and a princess with hair so long.

No yetis, no talking snowmen and trees,

No mind boggling galaxies.

No raging tides with entire towns below,

No wonderland where in summer it snows,

No dogs on a mission in a level seven crisis, 

No Zeus, no Ares, no Athena and Isis. 

These are worlds that we have created, 

Shaped with our palms,

They may not be true but to us they are.

They are much more than fantasies, fandoms and tales,

These are places where we can disappear only to be found again,

On a new planet or in a new land,

Sink deep and dwell in there for as long as you can.

-Tanvi