To be Indian is to spread love over fear,
in others’ sorrows, we’d shed a tear.
We used to value empathy,
now we don’t even have sympathy.
We used to spread a message of unity in diversity.
I guess I shouldn’t talk about unity and equality.
When women are afraid to step into their own streets,
when Kashmiris are killed by their own creed.
To be Indian is to see a brother in a Pakistani,
now that I said it I’ll have stones pelted at me.
You hate to admit it but it’s the truth,
fighting a war with ourselves that can’t stop with a truce.
My people struggle to afford two meals,
while in front of the dude in Antilia the government kneels.
To hell with the 5 trillion dollar GDP,
when it’s centered around exclusivity.
Many of us believe we are living the dream,
can’t blame them when we are fed propaganda on the big screen.
Calling a piece of fiction a fact doesn’t make a documentary,
it’s just hate disguised in a dose of history.
We pretend to be all open and progressive,
let me make it clear our politicians are oppressive.
Fighting over religion and caste,
that is how those in power last.
Questioning doesn’t equate to disrespect,
I may be wrong but I never claimed to be perfect.
Wanting to know the truth is just human nature.
Today asking for the truth puts you in danger.
I still hold on to the vision of what we should have been,
like souvenirs from a city never seen.