The last spark

With the focus of an arrow Accuracy unleashed Stood a spark — the last spark Staring into the unknown

One puff away from death Seeking one breath of life Clasping the fire within That kept its glow red-white It looked for a spark in arms A blow to fuel a spark-nation Not too strong to wrench it out Not too light to ashen it

Blue, orange, yellow, white The fire had once been tall A bright, luminous tandava Burning with sound At once a rightful hammering That burnt the conquering eye And a gentle crackling That warmed the child-nation

We forgot the great sacrifice Thousands that offered themselves So we could live Millions that perished unknown

So we could think Billions that smoked away So God could enter our bodies And unfold in us a new freedom

But freedom chooses its heroes And we have none A nation chooses its destiny And we prefer to be led Servile and bent

We seek a master So slaves we are To do the hostile’s bidding

MY time is over too, it said Deliver us if you can The wise spark lost its hold Light fading, its ascent grey Into the death smog above Like others, a lifeless flake Leaving the last spark

In contemplative solitude

Strength the answer, a voice said Without it, neither arms nor mind Space nor time From the depths of its inner light To the dark crust of its dying glimmer Shakti it invoked — in body, mind, soul A gentle life-giving wind And an ancient nation was reborn.