Oblivion Forever….?
India my Land,
A land of an everlasting spring,
Where soaring above the skies,
Here the Kokilas chirp and sing.

Where with its glorious glory,
The liths of time stand still;
Singing your praise the rivers roll,
Testifying your might,
Are high the hills.

Here is where the monsoons knock,
At the gates of a garden;
Where feeling the mounts, it could walk.
How nature’s Beauty herself, spies at her,
With the eyes of a Hawk.

Here is where knowledge found a glass,
For herself to look at,
Gazing at such splendour,
Here is where she found her throne,
Here where she sat.

But why do I speak in tenses of the past…?
Why do these lines crowning you,
Seem not sturdy enough to last.

Poets in the past,
Termed you many a time, a Harp.

Why, but today, thou art,
Unstruck forever, Unsung forever,
Speak if not sing,
What is it that I may do?
From you being forgotten in Oblivion forever.