The barricade wall was created
And the baton charge was fabricated
The gavel's echo was vibrant and potent
But the litigant was thin and insipid
The powerful lunatic throws the ferment
of justice in the dusty political corner
The Kartika torch was lit on the Deepa stone
By our ancestors from time immemorial
But the stone is now shedding blood
In the silent unleashing of state terror....
The justice temple bells of that Deepa stone
was stolen even before they could ring....
And in every shaking step to break the barricades
echoes of saffron rising from cracked bells..
Say the rulers...for their political profit. But
the flames of our tradition would be lit
On top of every sacred temple hill with justice...
Bharath Mattha will chant Vande Mataram
And dance inside that eternal flame...at any cost...
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