Over the night of terror and frozen cold,
A son is fighting for his mother, so bold.
With his bravery utmost, the war comes to an end,
“We Won!!!”, he yells, but someone was preparing his deathbed.
There happens a sudden blast, and the captain fells to death,
He was true to the promise he made, till his last breath,
Sleeps the braveheart, forever, into his mother’s arm,
With a smile in lip, he utters, “Vande Mataram”....
Ends his story, but starts a new, inspiring millions to awake,
The night is leaving behind, into a splendid daybreak!!
Adorned with a sky of freedom, so far away, a village is seen,
There is a paddy field, dazzling with the delight of green.
The fencing is seen afar, not clear, but a blur....
A li’l boy is running, shining in glory, with a tricolour.
Embracing the essence of independence, he sees the sky,
There are three fighter planes, displaying honour, with the fly,
Someone whispers, ”O’ dear son, now it’s your term”,
Thrilled with the voice, he salutes, and says, ”Vande Mataram”....