India,the land of my ancestors The fortune wheel of my ancestors Revolved and their desire of seeing A new land burgeoned in their rich minds, Profound and profuse,as boundless As the waters of the Indian ocean. In wretched conditions of coolies, Like cattle huddled in trucks They came not,but as rich bourgeois, Ready to seek new adventures As pioneers of the future, With flowery smiles and musical voices. Laborious and to some degree convoluted, Lucidity rushing in their veins, Determined and pure of heart, They left India,the land of sages, Of crafts,arts,great writers and poets, The cradle of civilasation, In all its beauty and its might, Leaving the jewel prints Of their feet behind. The buds of innocence slept not In their newly found land, Then known as Ile de France, Where governed Mahe de la Bourdonnais. With mustered power,incredibly conscientious, Together,they made of the island The key and star of the Indian Ocean. Now,this island has evolved With breakneck speed, Making of itself a modern,cutting edge Global center for intellectuals,technicians, Business men,artisans and artists. The world takes notice And to developing nations, It is an example Attired in many colours. These days,whenever I go to India, The cherished land of my ancestors, I hear their voices reverberating In the Himalayas,the hills and valleys. I hear their songs in open pastures And in the holy waters of the Ganges. I see their footprints in the golden wheat fields. I smell the aroma of their foods and flowers. Ruminating over their memories, The strings of my heart strum to celestial melody And on every Indian face,I see their smile, In every Indian heart,I see their compassion. Pramila Khadun.
Posted on: Tue, 01 Jul 2014 09:24:11 +0000
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