Valor fresh from the blanket,
Racing to the fences,
Of bulletproof cars,
And commandos writing destiny,
Holding on to chairs,
In a whirlpool of votes,
Is then the valor pristine?
Motherland you stand on,
From the soil of 1947,
A rocky road,
Could we have climbed?
Or did the throne stop them.
About the Creator
Debaditya Dutta
Like a house, I go layers deep. Can promise the skill, and if its a gift, its been sharpened for close to a decade now. I have to become the samurai of ink, and that's only through careful, deliberate spilling of ink.
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