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“The Gentalist Sonnet I only ask one thing of my soldier – everything! Give up all, so that those with nothing receive life. What can I give to thee, except for this life of mine, Says the brave gentalist across all personal strife. Gente means people, and people are the music of life. Love the people, lift the people, people are the way. Not your people, not my people, it's all one people. Once you feel it in your bones, uplift is on its way. I don't believe in a messiah, I don't believe in a god, ‘Cause I’m far too accountable for my society, my world. Thus speaks the gentalist, burning with a sense of duty, Thus speaks the living aid, who ain’t no mythical lord. If a chunk of alum can purify a bucket of putrid water, Your heart can purify the world with its gentalist power.” — Abhijit Naskar