Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the nation,
Not a leader was stirring at this latest abomination,
(They needed to hang no stockings anywhere,
Because their presents were in Swiss banks, hidden with care. )
Meanwhile children who should’ve been nestled in bed,
Had innocent visions of frolic replaced with dread,
(They with their tear gas, and us with our rage,
Fighting the brutality and bias of a much older age. )
You see, in the capital, there had had arisen such a clatter,
After even the illusion of decency had begun to shatter.
(Then politicised promises of change appeared in a flash,
Though lathi-charges soon reduced them to ash. )
Up on the Hill revolution was being borne,
Without social activists and khadi clad scorn.
(When, what to your wondering eye should disappear,
A generation that was forced to live in fear. )
We might need more check-posts or barricades or light,
Even ironic witticism in slogans to keep up the fight.
(As long as we don’t have to go exchanging views,
With the kind of people still fixating on clothes and curfews.)
Go spring to new ways, and fight for equality,
Like seldom discussed women’s rights to drink and party.
(Don’t go around expressing outrage at that sin,
All the while asking your sisters to stay in.)
We live in a world still deeply rooted in a past,
Where you don’t question your elders and marry in the same caste.
(In this place even our movies perpetrate wrongs.
For every real female character there are a hundred item songs. )
It’s still our world, though, it belongs to you and I.
Ours to mould, to stand up for, and ours to defy
(Be prepared to teach, to seek, and to fight.
And Merry Christmas y’all, and to all a good night.)