Bond Of Unity
What is unity? Asked a poet's mind,
She did not understand the texts of the books
Which claimed unity, to just be an act of coming together as a whole
But a poet understands not what the books tell,
But what things really mean in effect.
She roamed around from villages to towns
And asked different people, if they know the word's secret?
Not one, could answer correctly,
According to the wish of the poet,
Maybe, she would have to go back home defeated.
The poet, tired and subdued,
Sat on the bench of a shop, under a big tree
And thought hard about the meaning of the word,
Which kept popping up in different descriptions of their country.
It was, but a small roadside shop,
It looked like one that had flourished well.
There was a small crowd of eight or ten,
Who stood in front of the magic box of entertainment,
They watched intently, at the sport being played.
There were two or three, with turbans around their heads,
And a few wearing round caps,
A couple with a cross pendant at their necks
And some with saffron mark on their foreheads.
One wrong move, by a player in that colorful box,
And they all cursed together,
But they screamed and shouted in delight,
When the players made a move right
Hands in hands, shoulder to shoulder,
They all stood together when the team won,
Right there, they were not, people from different grounds,
But people whose voices echoed as one.
The poet went back home, smiling
After all she was not defeated,
She understood the term now, better than any textbook,
It's something not to be known,
But to be understood.
In a small roadside shop,
The poet witnessed the heart of the country,
The biggest gift to humanity,
This is it. Our bond of unity.