When I looked outside the window, I saw a general whipping an innocent.
I saw a family shedding its tears, I saw a flower withering and losing its scent.
I saw bruises, I saw wounds. I saw that civilians losing blood, but couldn’t trace a single tear.
He sat straight, with his head up. I saw a smile on his face, and widely opened eyes with no fear.
Until his last breath, he didn’t let the general touch his turban and chanted the name of Waheguru.
He told his sister not to cry and that strength is Waheguru and in the colourless, he is the hue.
I saw him sacrificing his life happily, but not bowing his head in front of the British.
And laid on that path of death by saying “We’ll be free, and their rule we’ll finish!”
His words, lightened the blood river to golden, and that blossom bloomed again.
His sister rubbed her tears, embarked strength in her eyes, and didn’t let his death go in vain.
Like him, many heroes, fighters for their nation lost their blood, sacrificed their every breath.
They walked barefoot on the thorns laid by the crown, didn’t let the thorns pierce their strength.
The sky wept rains, but they drank it as an elixir, as a nectar because they never were afraid.
For the nation, its people, and its independence, in the history their blood they paid.
Their families with pride covered them in the shelter of Tiranga, preserving their bravery.
They fought with the dream of freedom glittering in their eyes, with strength, without any worry.
They wanted us to breathe independence, to let the colony be a united Bharat.
Our love is our strength but The Raj, mistakenly weighed our power by the gold’s karat.
So my dear citizens let us remember the sacrifice of those who have been martyred.
Let us shed our tears for those, for the nation who have been by the British scared.
August, 2025
