The Illusion we call Independence Day – A Poem

It’s 15th of August,
Early in the morning,
I got a WhatsApp text,
From my best friend. Said,
Happy Independence Day, bud!
I got into introspection mode.

What is Independence?
What is Freedom?
Free to live life
Are we free?

Every day in every newspaper,
There is an Asifa, there is a Nirbhaya,
Succumbing to uncontrolled testosterone;
There is a poor man,
Under the scan,
On his death bed,
Cause he lies low on the society grade.

There is a riot for a film release,
But everyone is quiet about women’s safeties.
There is a ban on artists,
Cause they come from the other side of the border limits.

There are people dying,
Cause of scripts written by humans no more being,
No proof, no evidence of God Almighty,
But, everyone says, their God is the Supreme authority.

Are we really free?
From others’ scrutiny?
Do we have freedom at all?
It does come at a price colossal

Written by yours truly.

Thank you dearest friend Shelly Bajwa for helping me out with the editing and the title. Thank you everyone in our book club The Lit Lodge for always helping and supporting me.


10 thoughts on “The Illusion we call Independence Day – A Poem

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