(This is the first of a series of poems inspired by one of the greatest non-fictions of recent time, “The Future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad” by Fareed Zakaria)
The future of freedom seems rather bleak
for the millions of simple inhabitants,
settled throughout the prolific Ganges plain.
The pathogen is a composite one
and highly potent too, astride the realms
of both economy and politics…
What an irony that mankind’s future
shall always be sketched in their history!
Being a land ruled by imported dynasties
for the better part of the millennium
and the native indulgent elites
ever vying for a crumb of the imperial bread,
the native populace could neither sow nor reap
the fragile seeds of individual liberty.
Being a land both rich with minerals deep inside
and a fertile abundance of growth on the face
there has never been a dire need of skills among
the geometric rise of the native populace.
There, the seeds of liberty had never been sowed
from which the fabled shrines of freedom could have grown…