India, a mystical land of ascetics and saints for eons, morality and principles had run in its veins,
The collective conscious and will of the people who had once striven for freedom,
Reflects in every living soul when patriotic songs are sung marking the day of Independence,
Yet, every hour the News shows us the consecrated place becoming a slaughter house of religions and innocents,
Pray, let the remembrance reverberate in every tomb, grave and crematoriums, every hour, since the sanctity of the land is being drained.
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