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When you come home mother



When you come home mother,
You with your power and glory,
and blessings and grace.
These saffron-wearing thugs,
bandanas on their heads,
tridents in their hands,
the asuras of the Hindu-rashtra,
run in fear for their lives.

When you come home mother,
You with your love and anger,
and strength and justice.
These hate-mongering chanters
of Ram-naam,
with hate in their hearts,
the desecrators of your name,
go into hiding.

When you come home mother,
You with your joy and rage,
and care and force.
These miscreants that plant
the seeds of violence,
threaten to turn your land
into Gujarat or Ayodhya,
evanesce into the ether.

When you come home mother,
You with your power and glory,
and blessings and grace,
Your children, Hindus and Muslims,
come together in united resolve,
To keep these mandarins of
hatred and violence
Out of your land.



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