অন্যান্য · ReflectionOther · Reflection
3 মিনিট3 min read
80th Independence Day80th Independence Day
Today, we celebrate our
80th Independence Day.
A country
where women are worshipped as goddesses,
yet their clothes become the
measure of their character.
Where little buds,
before they even have the chance to bloom,
are butchered.
Where a teenage girl feels afraid
if it gets too late while returning
home from class.
Where daughters are taught
not to talk about good touch and bad touch—
because apparently,
they are born to bear every touch
without saying a word.
Where doctors, whom we call gods,
are not safe.
Where politicians can be bought.
Where leaked question papers
can shatter dreams
and take lives.
Where protesters
are treated like terrorists.
Where goons prosper,
while farmers struggle to survive.
And yet—
we will hold our flag high.
We will sing our national anthem louder.
We will celebrate the freedom
our ancestors fought so hard to win.
But somewhere beneath the pride,
beneath the celebrations,
beneath the tricolour—
a question remains.
A question we may not want to ask.
A question we may be afraid to answer:
Are we really independent?Today, we celebrate our
80th Independence Day.
A country
where women are worshipped as goddesses,
yet their clothes become the
measure of their character.
Where little buds,
before they even have the chance to bloom,
are butchered.
Where a teenage girl feels afraid
if it gets too late while returning
home from class.
Where daughters are taught
not to talk about good touch and bad touch—
because apparently,
they are born to bear every touch
without saying a word.
Where doctors, whom we call gods,
are not safe.
Where politicians can be bought.
Where leaked question papers
can shatter dreams
and take lives.
Where protesters
are treated like terrorists.
Where goons prosper,
while farmers struggle to survive.
And yet—
we will hold our flag high.
We will sing our national anthem louder.
We will celebrate the freedom
our ancestors fought so hard to win.
But somewhere beneath the pride,
beneath the celebrations,
beneath the tricolour—
a question remains.
A question we may not want to ask.
A question we may be afraid to answer:
Are we really independent?
— মৌমিতা— Moumita
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