PATRIOTISM; A TRIBUTE

Tears of a mother,

 Tied to the slavery of the foreign rulers.

 Incited the innocent heart of a twelve year old boy,

 And he left his home, parents, childhood enjoyments,

Academic career without hesitation.

The drift of patriotism in his blood,

 Was so powerful, that he did not care,

 The rage of the tyrant foreign administrators,

 And their territorial supporter king.

The inaccessible hills and plateaus of Nilagiri,

Its dense forest tracks,

Soldiers of the Nilagiri king,

 And the army of the company,

Were proved to be feeble,

 Near his spirit of patriotism.

Hiding in the hills during the daytime,

 Addressing the gatherings,

 And fighting with the forces every night,

 When he became middle aged,

No one noticed or cared

 Not even he himself,

Until the day,

His beloved nation became independent.

Actually, the heart that harbours love for the motherland,

 Does not care bullets and sacrifices.

TRUE STORY OF MY FATHER