For decades, Bharat was betrayed from within. The Congress party, an instrument of colonial design, sold out the soul of the nation…… weakening our borders, dismantling our defences, and sacrificing sovereignty for vote bank politics. After Partition in 1947, when history demanded a clean break, millions who ideologically aligned with Pakistan were inexplicably retained within our borders, nurtured by a corrupt leadership.
Today, a sizeable portion of the population owes its presence not to patriotism but to political betrayal. They eat of this land, yet their hearts beat for Pakistan and Bangladesh. Protected by appeasement, they have flourished while law-abiding citizens were stifled. These scum shall be cast out…. for Bharat belongs to those who love her, not those who seek her ruin. They have burdened our economy, infiltrated institutions, and are responsible for over 85% of criminal activity.
But in 2014, the tide turned. A new era was born….. nationalist, unapologetic, and brave. The shackles of appeasement were shattered. The lion of Bharat roared again. We began the journey of strength, of self-reliance, of pride. No more would we kneel. No more would we beg for weapons while dying in our own homeland. Now, we rise….. and we rise armed.
For years, we bore the weight of chains,
While traitors fed our foes with cheer.
They sold our pride for foreign gains…..
And left us drowning in despair and fear.
The soldier stood with eyes of flame,
Yet had to plead to fire back twice.
Orders bound him, still he came…..
To bleed for Bharat, to pay the price.
But now, the lion’s heart is stirred,
And vengeance breathes in every breath.
Bharat strikes with steel and word….
A tide of fire, a storm of death.
No more the days of dust and rust,
No more waiting for foreign scraps.
We build our arms with molten trust,
In fire-forges and factory maps.
The BrahMos cleaves through sky and sea,
A blade of thunder, sleek and swift.
Supersonic, certain, cold decree……
It leaves behind a smoking rift.
Then Agni rises, wrathful, bold….
A fireborn spear from legends told.
Twelve thousand leagues its reach, they claim,
But deeper still burns Bharat’s flame.
Then roars the Pinaka, Shiva’s wrath,
It scorches land and skies alike.
A tempest forged in ancient path,
Unleashed with every single strike.
Hypersonic missiles, fast as light,
With minds that hunt, and wills that steer.
They rise from launch like bolts of night,
And shatter silence with roaring fear.
Akash now guards the nation’s dome,
From skies above to threat-prone zone.
It hunts down drones, it shreds through steel……
No foe escapes its thundering wheel.
The S-400 stands, a silent wall,
That sees the skies and ends the call.
From four full hundred leagues it strikes,
To shield the land where freedom spikes.
Akashteer, the AI mind so bright,
It sees all threats, by day and night.
From close-in guns to missiles’ flight,
It weaves a shield, with deadly might.
Radars scan, and satellites track,
All systems linked, no turning back.
Every layer, every gun, every eye…..
Akashteer guides as threats pass by.
NavIC guides with perfect aim,
Twenty metre’s precision, no foe can claim.
From earth to sky, it charts the way,
A beacon for Bharat, night and day.
We build our tanks with iron skins,
Howitzers blaze from desert’s edge.
Fighter birds with falcon grins,
Carve war’s resolve on every ledge.
Behold, INS Vikrant takes the tide,
Our ocean’s pride, our nation’s might.
No borrowed hull, no foreign guide….
She sails with Bharat’s blazing light.
The mother watches…. not in dread,
But proud she sends her child to fight.
With lifted chin and tears unshed,
She guards the flame, she holds the light.
From Himalayan peaks to ocean beds,
From desert sands to forest deep,
We guard our land where martyr bled,
And vow to never again sleep.
No traitor’s hand shall guide our fate,
No foreign pawn shall dictate law.
We rise with wrath, we rise with state…..
And every foe shall taste our awe.
The era of decay is over. No longer do we wait for others to defend us. We have forged our destiny….. in steel, in flame, in resolve. From missiles that scream like thunder, to warships that ride the waves of glory, Bharat has risen.
The enemies within shall be rooted out. The saboteurs, smug in their stolen comfort, shall find no refuge. This land is sacred….. and it shall belong only to those who stand by her with soul and sword.
This is the New India….. not a dream, but a marching battalion, a forged blade, and a lion’s roar echoing across history.
Addy's Verse 
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