She stared up on the sky full of stars,
She consoled her soul,

Asked it to rely on the vastness of an ever expanding universe.

A region full of revolts.

Everyone wanted to define her,
Defend her.

Tear her apart or put her back together.

They wanted to decide what she needed,

To decide what needs to be a part of her and what doesn’t.

They kept repeating on who were allies and who weren’t.

She resisted once in a while.

With a calamity or two. She cried down south.

They would have none of it.

She knew she couldn’t side with anyone, how can she? They were all a part of her.

Surrounded by cold-polluted air, she thinks about her past.
Was history ever kind to me?

Is everyone always taking from me? Those invaders, these citizens.
Is there any difference?

Do they even know, she wonders.

Do they even know the India they are speaking of does not even exist.

It is all an illusion and you are delusional to trample upon this universe’s imaginative gift to you.

She closes her eyes and waits for the sun to bask upon her.

Another night passes and she bleeds from within.

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