Where imagination struts with its head held high
Where fiction flows free
Where melodrama doesn’t experience fragmentation
By narrow language walls
Where truth germinates from the heart of fiction
Where determination stretches its arms towards climax
Where more words put inventiveness on its way
To confuse even the reviewers and analysts
Where the creative instinct is led by thee
Into ever-filling pages of prosperity
Into that freedom to write my rights, my father
Let my country awake!
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Tagore’s poem parodied for the politician as a writer
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Arvind Passey
25 April 2016
