A 63 year old democracy

We are a democracy completed years sixty three
We are, but, yet to be freed
From the clutches of caste and creed
And, the worst of all, that of greed

While the first two divide us
The third one destroys us
Most of the decision makers
And policy makers
Are driven by  these three principles
And we are still limping
Towards the horizon and daylight
Having been freed in the middle of the night

Rare it is to come across
Personalities now a days
Despite our having
More than a thousand million people

Most of our people
In poverty
And in the darkness of ignorance
Find it difficult to
Understand the qualities
Of the people, whom they elect
To rule us
Elected ones, though not in poverty,
Are as ignorant as the people
Who voted them to power

How many more independence days
Are we going to cross
In fact, there is no celebration
For most of our people
Know not what independence really means
For them it means,,
Simply means, they have the right
To select wrong people

We have not forgotten our long history
We know
King's son becomes the king
So we maintain that
Prime Minister's son or daughter
Should become prime minister
Chief Minister's son or daughter
Should become chief minister

We love our families
We take good care of sons, daughters,
Their off-springs
We take care of our relatives as well

We take care of people
Belonging to our caste, religion or creed
We are happy
When our elected leaders also do the same

We do not believe in technical decisions
We advocate the cause
Of taking such decisions
Which match our above
Familial policies enhancing
Opportunities for our own people

When will our thirst for freedom quench
This thirst will never be quenched
As water to quench that thirst
Is no where visible
Nor we know where to look for it