The Rise Of Hurt

In the land of the naked Fakir, where words once flowed
Like rivers of fame , with utter fearlessness bestowed;
Now stands a nation , a dream gone astray ,
Where words are censured , before we say.

Try to make a statement, or write a lyrical song ,
The hurt Industry will drag you along ,
Facebook comments and tweets add to the fray ,
And give you a list of all you can't say.

The shady industry booms , promising profits galore ,
No wonder then it is one our rulers adore.
Exploiting the fabric of emotion in ignorant minds ,
Our country in dire and intrinsic webs it binds.

"But we only do it for the people" , they violently protest ,
Keeping in mind their duty of protecting the "voter's interest" ,
"No community is 'hurt', or 'offended' , this we ensure",
And chuckle inwardly at the prospect of an extended tenure.

Is it not time to shun our ignorance , abandoning this facade of false demure,
And take a stand , rather embolden one , that our fathers' fathers took for a dream so pure,
And discover the promised freedom ; not the pathetic lies our masters feed us ,
But as the vision of Gandhi , our father , and the dream he dreamt for us.