India, an adoration to

India, an adoration to

Mother,
Who foolishly dares to call you poor and weak,
A dark, cowering land of the inferiors sick?
Or still a slave to the will of foreign lords,
A land devoid of the mercy and love of Gods?
Do you not have the crystal purity of snow
of the Himalayas, lit by the Sun's early glow?
Do you not have the tolerant firmness of trees,
And soothing love of Spring's flowery breeze?

Mother,
Who doubts your name, your will and stregth,
When your might crosses the cosmic length,
Reaching distant shores of the Moon and Mars,
Projecting your glory to the bright realm of stars?
Shamed by disgrace, chained by slavery once,
You witnessed the frenzy of time's chaotic dance,
And yet your glory remaind unbroken and firm,
Through eons of freezing chill, and ages warm.

Mother,
Who wrongly dares say, that you are afraid,
Of alien terror and the mechanical dread?
For your name resonates with our every breath,
And your passionate blessing conquers death!
You are the very strength that flows in our heart,
That sacred, pious land of our race's blessed birth,
In all our journeys, you remain our steadfast mate,
Oh protectress of our souls, Oh shield of our fate!

Mother,
All across your hills, valleys, woods and farms,
May we all receive the embrace of your arms.
Like the eternal fire, its living light and flame,
May we be purified by the magic of your name.
Let us forget all the barriers we've built,
Amongst ourselves, let them all vanish or wilt,
For we stand united by brotherly love and laws,
Assembled together to fight, for the Indian cause.

Mother,
Bless our present, our future and past,
And empower us to shrug off ages of dust.
Lead us all to success's immaculate threshold,
And let us all, your noble aura, behold!
For you are the life that fuels our blood,
Yours alone is the name that makes us glad,
And thus ends our hymn, echoing along your hall,
Oh Mother, divine queen and Uniter of us all! 

- Anirban Chatterjee