Father Of The Nation

Father Of The Nation short poem

Photo by emilong

When he led, a nation followed
When he raised a hand, a nation submitted
When he walked, a nation moved
When he spoke, a nation observed
When he instructed, a nation obeyed
When he protested, a nation agitated
When he asserted, a nation agreed
When he enthused, a nation was inspired
When he smiled, a nation rejoiced
When he ignited, a nation was exploded
He was not the part of anyone’s family
Yet, he was admired as if a member!
He was not a relative of anyone
Yet, he was revered as a relative of every Indian!
Mahatma Gandhi is the father of the nation!
It is India’s unwritten legislation!!

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

V.MUTHU MANICKAM

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Blessed with the chance to be nurtured with the nature, the Author hails from a small town, downhill the Western Ghats of India. He is a double Post Graduate -in Commerce and in Management and also a Graduate in law. He is a Civil Servant serving the Government of India in the rank of Deputy Commissioner. He has published 14 (Fourteen) Collections of poetry (in English). 11 Books were published during 2014, 2 during 2015 and 1 during 2017. These 14 eBooks cover a host of genres and are live at http://www.amazon.com/MUTHU-MANICKAM/e/B00QU55536.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

3 Comments on "Father Of The Nation"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Kenneth Miller
Member
I’m interested in how Indian people remember Gandhi. I’m kicking myself for not going to Madison Square Garden to have heard Modi speak to the Indian diaspora last year. That was not so far away. There are many things within my grasp that I don’t always prioritize correctly. I met a man that was in New Deli in 1947. The Indian Hipster in my life. Really, it was like cosmic hurricane that brought me to talk to him. He changed his name because Gandhi asked him too. He spent a few years on the lamb for refusing to take some oath to the empire at his graduation ceremony. Believe it or not, I hardly believe it, he walked up the Ganges to paint the Cashmere and some villages in they Himalayas. Yea, I wonder how Indian people remember Gandhi today… I’m interested in that. I’ll look for more poetry about that here. Thank you for sharing. I feel like I want to share here… I saw B Bhutto speak in Pittsburgh at an event many years ago. There was an event with Richard Pearlman’s father and an Imam talking about Jews and Muslims… I guess she was just traveling in… Read more »
Kenneth Miller
Member

Western Ghats.
The Indus on the left. the Ganges on the right
How many cities in India can I name… not many… about as many as I could name in China.

my knowledge of geography is so shallow I can hardly stand it.
thanks for the reminder. I care where you are.

I’ll print out a couple maps of India a circle things when I learn a new place.

wpDiscuz

An Open Letter To A Father (for Jade)

An Open Letter To A Father (for Jade) prose poem

Dear father, Have you seen your daughter lately? You are missing a lot. You have missed a gamut of Her cuteness. I see her daily in my classroom, And she is growing into A wonderful young lady. She is smart.

My Father, My World!

My Father, My World! prose poem

Who am I, without the presence of my father? Who am I, without the support of my father? Who am I, without the mercy of my father? I am nothing, without the love of my father. All that I am,

A Nation Divided

A Nation Divided long poem

A nation divided Under God with liberty and justice For all The line is clear Black as night Clear as day Party over blood Party over logic Party over love Some are humans Others muslim Some are humans Others black

Zombie Nation

Zombie Nation short poem

Memory socks all tangled in a mental laundromat Just another peasant playing the aristocrat Treading water with dinosaurs, pajamas dragging me down Dodging rubber bricks, thrown by a circus clown X-ray vision in a room full of bones Mass hypnosis

My Father

My Father long poem

My Father I see her in front of me, but not for long, she Leaves without a Word or goodbye, Disappears into her own brutal Darkness, NEVER seeming to plan to return, a deluded life I lived now shattered IN