Someone usually in black and white,
Was thrown off a train, a century ago.
Alien he was to such behavior, agitated he was.
While they were white, black he was.
With anger and disgust he raised his voice,
Not for vengeance but for the masses’ plight.
Determined he was to get equal status
For all, and destroy the racial apparatus.
Such triumph overseas exhibited his fortius.
Back in his motherland were the celebrations of this hero.
Raised expectations meant his onslaught on the colonial rule.
Being his own predicament no outlandish ruth,
Equipped he was with the weapons of righteousness and truth.
His patriotic speeches stirred the souls of Indians alive,
Feelings of nationalism in his words did thrive.
A heap of misdirected mob was India till now,
His leadership made this nation unite and take a vow.
He made them believe that Freedom could be near,
On their path they needed to choose the right gear.
A ray of light, a glimmer of hope was seen by the Indians,
His disobeyers were sent to social dungeons.
The 1st assault, Non-Cooperation crippled the British entity.
Unfortunately a few violent idiots spoiled the party.
But the man stuck to his principles of ethics and morality,
Even after a withdrawal there was no apathy.
He violated the law with no trepidation,
Dandi march and salt was made,
Reason he gave for his own captivation,
Civil disobedience was now inscription on jade.
For natives who took such gallant blows
But were never diverted from what had to be done,
One wrong step the Irwin pact left all undone.
But alarmed were the British by the national unity,
And that man who by now had become a prodigy.
A mellowing encounter, the divide and rule policy.
The struggle continued to the last go, Quit India.
Panicky government imprisons him to avoid insomnia.
Without him who showed them the way,
Unruly followers got violent in disarray.
Communalist Violence turned the country gray.
A depressed man lets the mission go to fray.
But his efforts by now had done enough,
For India had become a volcano ready to cough.
It took five years to achieve liberty, though
Selfish interests had divided his heart,
India and Pakistan were the two parts.
Father of the nation, greatest man to walk the arena,
None alive could match his persona.
Clad in a yard of cloth he changed the rules,
Unlike here he had little respect from the western fools.
For the great Nobel Prize didn’t have him in fate.
The sublime human had the most unfortunate end,
A maniac with three shots and he made his last bend.
Sixty one years now since the end of an epic of bravery,
Its worthless to say but he was “Mahatma Gandhi”.
Was thrown off a train, a century ago.
Alien he was to such behavior, agitated he was.
While they were white, black he was.
With anger and disgust he raised his voice,
Not for vengeance but for the masses’ plight.
Determined he was to get equal status
For all, and destroy the racial apparatus.
Such triumph overseas exhibited his fortius.
Back in his motherland were the celebrations of this hero.
Raised expectations meant his onslaught on the colonial rule.
Being his own predicament no outlandish ruth,
Equipped he was with the weapons of righteousness and truth.
His patriotic speeches stirred the souls of Indians alive,
Feelings of nationalism in his words did thrive.
A heap of misdirected mob was India till now,
His leadership made this nation unite and take a vow.
He made them believe that Freedom could be near,
On their path they needed to choose the right gear.
A ray of light, a glimmer of hope was seen by the Indians,
His disobeyers were sent to social dungeons.
The 1st assault, Non-Cooperation crippled the British entity.
Unfortunately a few violent idiots spoiled the party.
But the man stuck to his principles of ethics and morality,
Even after a withdrawal there was no apathy.
He violated the law with no trepidation,
Dandi march and salt was made,
Reason he gave for his own captivation,
Civil disobedience was now inscription on jade.
For natives who took such gallant blows
But were never diverted from what had to be done,
One wrong step the Irwin pact left all undone.
But alarmed were the British by the national unity,
And that man who by now had become a prodigy.
A mellowing encounter, the divide and rule policy.
The struggle continued to the last go, Quit India.
Panicky government imprisons him to avoid insomnia.
Without him who showed them the way,
Unruly followers got violent in disarray.
Communalist Violence turned the country gray.
A depressed man lets the mission go to fray.
But his efforts by now had done enough,
For India had become a volcano ready to cough.
It took five years to achieve liberty, though
Selfish interests had divided his heart,
India and Pakistan were the two parts.
Father of the nation, greatest man to walk the arena,
None alive could match his persona.
Clad in a yard of cloth he changed the rules,
Unlike here he had little respect from the western fools.
For the great Nobel Prize didn’t have him in fate.
The sublime human had the most unfortunate end,
A maniac with three shots and he made his last bend.
Sixty one years now since the end of an epic of bravery,
Its worthless to say but he was “Mahatma Gandhi”.
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