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“The Naskar Anthem (Sonnet 2554-2555) Heir to no throne, no crown on my head, tearing up borderly lies, I burn as the lamp of aid. I hold no flag, yet I raise nations, I stand as rebel guard, humanizing inoculation. Rocking the world with sacred wonder, priming the souls with curing thunder, every sonnet is call against slumber, every line, a revolt against plunder. From the alleys of grief to the towers of pride, I am wounded, I walk with the wounded by my side. Not born to erase faith, but to rewrite it tolerant; suffering is the doorway, to the becoming of a saint. A pair of helping hands is holier than a million praying lips; I got no need for scripture, for I carry a heart that beats. I have no law, but life - I have no edict, but empathy. I have no creed, but conscience - I am the vow of mad inclusivity. Roads ignited with the voice of oneness, cannot be extinguished by clouds of hate. When the final regime has fallen to pieces, the drop of dew will still be incandescent.” — Abhijit Naskar