Azaadi Ka Jashan

The Critical Indian Icon


This post isn't about critique or sarcasm; nor it is about celebrating or flaunting that—'day-long' patriotism, we put on a pompous display every year. And this goes for most of us. I keave the room room for partriots  I haven't met or come across yet. 

This poetry is simply a reminder of what those great many men have been through, and the sacrifices that have been made to ensure that we live and breathe free. Its about appreciating and its also about letting go...


Celebration of Freedom

Ghulaami ki zanjeero ko todne main kurbaaniya to sabhi ne di thi

Tab vo na Hindu thae na Musalman, aur na hi Sikh,
Sabhi thae Hindustani aur sabhi ki thi zid

Ki tod de ghulami ki yeh bediyaan
Bhale hi ho jaaye apni matrubhoomi pe qurban

Yehi chahat thi un sab ki, 
aur yehi armaan

Kuch kar guzre aur fanaa ho gaye
Kuch issi jagdojahat mein tabah ho gaye

Kuch parvaane shama jalate rahe
Kuch deewane loha piglate rahe

Bahut se afsaane to bas yu hi zaaya ho gaye 
Khayi thi unhone bhi kasme watan, par na kalam naseb hui, na kafan

Gandhi bhi thae, aur Bose bhi
Bismillah bhi thae, aur Bhagat bhi

Jo barackpore se nikli thi chingaari
Woh azaadi ki shama ban gayi

Par hua haasil jab mukaam—parinde patange ban gaye
Kudh bhi jale aur aashiyaana bhi jala daala

Tukde hue alag, aur nafrato ne baat daala
Aaj kai dashak ho chale par kahani vahi hai,
bas kirdaar badalte rehte hai

Aazad hai hum, yeh baat sahi hai
Par aazadi ke maiyne kya aaj bhi vahi hai?


© 2024 Ashutosh Joshi

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