b'THE REST OF US STORIESMy country was Great! For the death of a Briton by an IndianAnd we held our flag high, Was one of full intent,Until another stole our Greatness Whilst the death of an Indian by the hands of a BritonAnd dragged it down from the sky. Was always an accident.Who knew that the spices he sought to find Or should I say by the feet of a Briton?Would soon collect tax from our own kind? The Stout British Boot -Who knew that the silks he came to seek Wasnt that a songWould soon be stained with the blood of our cheeks? Your folk had actually written?We put on shows like circus animals And you said you came as tradersFor your Lords when they came, But exploited out land for teaTo check up on their little project You said you came to free usOf taming us untamed. But all you did was take for free.We wore your ties So dont tell me to speak my languageLike nooses around our necks, When you stole our words to make your own.While you studded The Crown Dont tell me to wear my clothesWith the stolen jewels you still protect. Because our people have yours sewn.You claim you brought upon us education, Dont tell me to eat my foodBut if any Indian gained When you eat more rotis than you eat rolls.A worthy position, And dont tell me to go back to my country,Youd reject them on the basis of their complexion. Because it was once your ancestors home.You claim you brought upon us democracy, Our soldiers fought your warsBut if any Indian held Our money aided your gamesThe majority, Our resources supplied your armies,Youd dismiss them on account of their inferiority. So in your textbooks, where are our names?You claim you brought upon us free press, We were treated like subjects,But if any Indian dared Never citizens in our own towns,To protest, So why, if my ancestors werent given the decency of Their entire family would be suppressed. saying I am BritishWhy, should I be proud to say I am British now?And just imagine!How immoral must one be God save the Queen!To introduce the Rule of Law But dont save their people.Yet manage to rule so lawlessly. Down came our shikharaBehind your closed office doors And up went his steeple.In faraway London,You decided the fate of our people The white man came to my countryFor which most, was the dungeon. And left with red hands.The white man came to my countryClaiming you had a God-given right And left no longer a man.To dispense your authority upon us,Claiming you were the superior raceMa Ganga: The Sacred GangesThat was sent to civilize us. Ridhi Kotecha61'