My India

Oh, my India, a land of ancient tales,

Where history whispers on the sun-kissed trails.

From snowy peaks where mighty rivers flow,

To southern shores where gentle breezes blow.

A vibrant tapestry of colors bright,

In saffron, green, and pure, angelic white.

The chimes of temples, prayers from mosques arise,

A symphony of faith beneath the skies.

The scent of spices, hot and bold and rare,

Fills bustling markets with a lively air.

The farmer's toil, the artisan's skilled hand,

Nourish the soul of this wondrous land.

Through crowded streets and quiet, village lanes,

A spirit burns that conquers all the pains.

My India, a mother's loving grace,

A home for all, a timeless, sacred place.