Are We Really So Different?

Last month, there was an open submission of poetry from middle school students, on the topic ‘Are We Really So Different?” referring to the British Rule, aka the differences between us, as Indians and them as Britishers. This is what I submitted-the main message being celebrating our differences, respecting our history and surging ahead hand in hand. I hope you like my take on the topic! 🙂

Are we really so different?

This you may just wonder

Between the British and the Indians

Are there variances we fall under?

 

There used to be a time

Which not many of us have forgotten

When we were taken over by the British

And treatment of slavery we had gotten.

 

200 years we suffered and ached

With the thirst of freedom and liberty

Grabbed at our weaknesses with pride

‘Divide and rule’ brought them into victory.

 

They took advantage of the malice

Present in kingdom battle and meelee

But what they did bought far more agony-

67 years have passed since then today.

 

With hearts burning of patriotism

Our ancestors gifted us this nation

They fought to death with devotion

Yet, the youth doesn’t have appreciation.

 

Today, we have forgotten who we were

Clouded with Western, English influence

This revulsion is what we call ‘modern’

We must guard our culture with prudence.

 

Are we really so different?

Well I’m afraid not anymore!

If we can step back into our ethos

There’s still hope for igniting our core.

 

Being different is not a crime!

The differences make us so unique!

India is the land of colour and culture

About this we needn’t be discreet!

 

What are the characters of our country?

Excelling in art, music, science and literature

Aura of security, colour, joy and goodness

Don’t transform brilliance into a caricature.

 

We are known for our unity

We are the bigger people of the world

We unite the continents together

With Hindustan, happiness is swirled!

 

Are we really so different?

So the question you have set

Yes and no is the answer

How do I explain- it’s kismet.

 

No- we are not so dissimilar

We all are humans after all

Our origin doesn’t define character

Culture does not define one’s gall.

 

 

We all are at the top

We all have skill to exceed

English and Indian can hold hands

And together we can succeed-

 

History is history indeed-

Neither country should bring it back.

We aren’t different- God has given

Us equal form with equal knack.

 

Are we really so different?

You know what? We are indeed!

Why shy away from our uniqueness?

It is what makes us exceed.

 

Embrace your beautiful individuality

Remember how we went through adversity

We are beautiful- we are different-

We believe in unity in diversity!

 

Mango

Image

Mango

The wintery spring has glided away and the warm days of summer slowly march forward here in India. Yes! Summer has just started and started putting all sorts of pleasant summer thoughts in our mind. Shining stars, running around, welcoming the birds, and gorging on the yummy fruits of the warm season!
In a couple of weeks the markets will be in rage for all kinds of juicy luscious Indian mangoes, and so I wrote a kind of funny-ish poem about them- from the view point of the fruit itself!
So let’s welcome the narrative from Mr. Mango: ……

I am a little mango
fleshy and yellow
I am the most tasty
fruity little fellow.
I have a very big heart
that you see when eating me
Don’t thank me (or your tongue)
Thank the seed of the mango tree.
I may be quite tiny
But to taste buds I am kind
Of me there are many
All are easy to find.
If you’re sweet in your heart
To all people you meet
I’ll be yummy in your tongue
Either tangy or sweet.
I’m also strong because
When you peel of my skin
I don’t get at all hurt
Though it’s pretty thin.
Once peeling me is over
I very happily reveal
My yummy and pleasurable
Fruitful breakfast meal!
Then pass five minutes
Your mouth filled with joy
The juicy, fleshy layer of fruit
You shout out: “Oh Boy!”
You know the juice dribbles
Down upon your chin
But I am so delicious
That just isn’t a sin.
And when that done
All remains is the seed
I’ll then live your tummy
Having done a tasty deed.
But that little left seed
Can be planted with care great
And once more a tree will pop on up
For me to be in your breakfast plate!