Heritage’s Light and Shadow
When blind tradition sees no new.
A heavy chain, a rigid hold,
On progress, stories left untold.
From caste's old wounds to patriarchal might,
Obscuring equity, dimming light.
It can divide, with pride and might,
Fueling conflict, dimming light.
When history's truths are twisted, bent,
For power's gain, on conquest intent.
The colonial scars, though centuries old,
Still shape the narratives, brave and bold.
The ancient sites begin to fade,
By modern chaos, plans unmade.
Commercial greed, a hungry hand,
Exploits culture, across the land.
From sacred rivers, choked and slow,
To craftsmen losing skills they know.
We walk through ruins, unaware,
Of voices lost, still hanging there.
The whispers in forgotten stone,
Of lives erased, of truths unknown.
The unheard voices of the margins' plea,
Lost in the clamour, for all to see.
Flags are raised on sacred ground,
While wisdom’s echoes lose their sound.
Lineage used to draw a line—
To judge, exclude, define "divine."
Communal fires, fiercely burn,
Lessons of coexistence, we must unlearn.
In classrooms, books may blur the page,
To suit the bias of the age.
The victors write, the silence grows,
As deeper truths remain in throes.
Rewriting pasts, for present sway,
Stealing futures, day by day.
Yet still, amid the dust and ash,
A softer voice, a gentler flash—
Of elders’ words, of songs once sung,
Of roots from which all life has sprung.
The wisdom of the Rishis, pure and deep,
Promises that humanity can keep.
Tradition, when with love it's kept,
When questioned not, but deeply felt,
Can guide us true, and ground our place,
A mirror held to time and space.
Like Ganga's flow, ever new, yet old,
A story timelessly untold.
So let us learn, with open heart,
To discern wisdom from the start.
Embrace the good, cast fears aside,
And let true heritage be our guide.
Beyond the labels, beyond the fray,
Embrace the soul of India's way.
Let not the past our steps confine,
But teach us how our paths align.
For in its light and shadow’s blend,
We find the means to grow, to mend.
From unity's call to justice's plea,
Building a future, wild and free.
To honor ancestors with grace,
Is not to freeze in one set place.
But walk ahead, eyes lifted high,
With voices past to fortify.
Like Buddha's path, a middle way,
Guiding us to a brighter day.
For balanced vision, clear and bright,
Can lead us toward a future’s light.
Protect the past, yet forward gaze,
Through changing times, and shifting days.
For heritage is not just stone or song,
But how we know where we belong.
It shapes the soul, the voice, the view—
A living bond from old to new.
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