Winds of hatred

blowing through my beloved land

turn it into an arid desert

of suspicion and mistrust

the warp and the weft

of the multihued tapestry torn asunder

by the jagged knife of divisive forces

jingoism running rampant

a silent multitude cowers helplessly

while those armed with high decibels

mutilate and scar the truth

my battered and bruised motherland

writhing naked shamefacedly

is in dire need of spiritual covering and cleansing

it foolishly exported to the west.

                                                         ~ Punam Sharma

                                                           India