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Narendra Modi – India’s 14th Prime Minister – And He Rose

by Saturday, May 17, 2014

16 May, 2014 – yesterday, my country created history.

A sweeping victory that my generation hasn’t seen before in its lifetime.

I have been waiting a long, long time for this day. And today, it’s a little difficult to describe the joy and feelings that come with the result of the 2014 Indian General Elections. There’s pride, there’s happiness, there’s hope, there’s relief and there’s a feeling of wanting to play a role, as small as it may be. For those who feel the same, can sign up here: http://www.narendramodi.in/form/
I recieved this link in a personalised Thank You Note from the PM NaMo’s office.

As I watch him address the nation Live on television right now.. part of what I feel today can well be summed up by one of my favourite poems of all time by Mary Angelou – And Still I Rise.

This one’s dedicated to the Man of the Moment – Narendra Modi. Thank you Sir. πŸ™‚

And Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

– Maya Angelou

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1 Response
  • Namrata
    May 17, 2014

    Nice…very appropriately chosen.

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