Savagery pillaging the roots of this great nation,
Human rights violated at every expression of free thought,
Internet shutdowns and media blackouts,
It reminds me of a time,
When blood was lost and freedom suppressed.
Red streaming on the streets of home,
Police ravaging houses and terrorising people,
You try to erase us,
But tell me how will you erase the ache of those mothers,
Whose sons never rose to see another day.
My people tell me of times,
They saw heads being removed from bodies,
Law enforcers running around terrified,
Of plundering goons that spared no head,
And I wince at the violence, my ‘liberal’ mind affronted,
And I ask them why.
Why was this necessary?
Does all of this really matter?
Why couldn’t we all live in peace?
But then last week I was told to back to my country,
And that’s when I realised;
Why all of that blood lost would never go in vain.
That we’ve had a language imposed on us,
Forcibly trying to erase our culture,
Fragmented lies to remove our history,
Labelled ‘foreigners’; as if there isn’t a regiment in the Indian Army named after us,
As if we have not been a part of this country,
Just as long as you have.
That’s when I see,
That they weren’t really plundering goons,
And yes, all of this really matters,
They were fighting a government of entitled majority,
That kept telling us,
That our identity and our culture wasn’t as important as yours.
Are we fading? Are we not?
We are a generation that has seen enough of our brethren die,
Our young bodies bristle with rage at your insolence,
Your refusal to respect thwarts your idealistic intellect,
And if needs be it, we will stand for our bravery is not just an ideal.
For the hills call our names,
She is inked in our bloods in flavours of pine and fir,
She is the blood that rushes to our cheeks in the winter air,
The rhythm of our bodies in the easy summers,
And you will not erase us from here.
It is not to say that you are not welcome,
We will respect and love you like our own,
Allow generations of your families to live with us; as we have done before,
But this land; is not up for sale.
And our existence is just as important as yours.
And perhaps that is why,
When affronted suddenly there are no barriers,
No religion, no caste an obstacle big enough,
This battle might be old but people will still pour out on the streets,
Together, we are strong,
We are Gorkhas, we are brave.