At Inchon

At Inchon - - - - - - - Tears and tears only on The Yellow Sea of an Indian None to stand by her None to console her None to wipe her tears Of what use of her toil then She fought with her blood To bring pride and glory to the nation She was a victim Of arrogance and bias She fought a heroic fight But was defeated by whims Of judges as if their birth right In fact she was a winner But adjudged a hopeless loser Not the punches of Park Ji-na Knocked her down but The punches of IOA Humbled her to lick the dust She is L.Sarita Devi who Was robbed in the ring By arrogant and biased judges In the 17th Asian Games But Sarita Devi don't be disheartened We know you are the winner Of what use of bronze When you deserve not less than gold Because we are Indians And Indian officials love holidaying abroad Disregarding players' well-being and pride You could do nothing but curse Being an Indian and a helpless woman If it were a Chinese Could these Koreans dare blunder? Anyway for us you are a gold winner It's a funny thing That a foul thing happened in the ring And you are crying No you should not Think that this Yellow Sea Has been dry for long And bereft of saline water You are now filling it up With sweet, salty and holy tears