f For Freedom

She was a model

A model of haute couture.

So high that it was designed directly by God.

Pot-bellied men and voluptuous women

Sat awaiting the next item.

And then, she walked along the catwalk

Not flaunting but apologetic

Of her near nudity.

Tattered clothes barely covering her.

A young body, all of fifteen years.

A small child

In the crook of her left arm,

Held as a prize, a memento for

The depravity and avarice of men

A wonderful fashion statement!

She looked straight ahead

At the pole bearing the tri-colour,

A remarkable symbol of

Sixty-three years of independence.

A sign of our freedom.

Freedom from what?

Well, never mind, freedom,

F-R-E-E-D-O-M and Independence.

She walked right up to the tiranga

And tugged at the rope

And brought down the flag

And wrapped it around her and the child.

And then for the final denouement

She brought out a bowl

And held it out

From beneath the Ashoka Chakra

To the guardians of fashion;

f”, she said, “Always stood for food”.


Footnote: Let’s not forget it when we celebrate our Independence Day yet again.


© 2010 – 2013, Sunbyanyname. All rights reserved.

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  1. Ravi, you have well articulated the thoughts that many of us share but the brute majority is having their way. It really sad that after 63 years of freedom there no freedom from hunger for vast numbers, this is real national shame

  2. Beautiful poem with b’ful synonyms for letter “f”. We see the real meaning of the word freedom thats DAMN cared ! keep writing such poems. 🙂