The Rebel in Me

There is a Shelley in me,

The presence I can certainly feel,

It’s not that easy to kill,

Or bury under the sea.


At times the rebel is of much help,

Acts depending on the situation,

Getting ready to teach Claudiuses, Iagos and Arguses a good lesson,

Paying no heed to their yelp.


Nazrul’s boldness in “The Rebel” works as a compass,

Directing towards the way of truth,

No matter how cunning the oppressors are, how devoid of ruth!

Can they dominate forever? When to strike is known to the mass.


Being a rebel when needed is something holy,

That’s like putting the first brick,

On the way to form a movement gigantic,

Have to embrace the rationale, even if time flies slowly.


I do take pride in being a rebel,

Lord Byron is somewhere at the heart’s core,

Ever helping me to roar,

Before the assembly of jovial noise, not Babel.

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