By Ananya Vashishtha
Let this song be an ode to,
Our youth with brilliant dreams - deep,
It’s time for our nation’s harvest,
O why yon reapers still sleep?
With united minds & thoughts we,
Blow the trumpets of progress evermore,
Shape our nation a haven of science and
art,
Advocate sustainability - new horizons
explore;
The toil filled years have just began,
On flows the loop of time,
Oh why abate, a nation’s to be made,
Hark! fate’s prosperous chime;
Out of colonial dark shadows,
Would thus emerge golden glory,
Betwixt patience ‘s long drawn lines,
Behold the splendour of dawn’s felicity.