When I think of America, br I think first of Swami Vivekananda, br The once religious Ambassador of India, br Under whose Banyan Tree, hands we shake, the friends of br Indo-America. br br When I think of Machine and Money, br I think of the rich America, br And when I think of Milk and Honey, br I think of the ancient India. br br When I think of War and Peace, br I know only the UNO in America, br But when I think of my spiritual needs, br I kneel down and bow my head towards India. br br When I think of Unity in Diversity, br I see, in the world map, the Indo-America. br How they run on the wheels of Democracy, br Black or white, never mind of the lingua franca? br br When I hear 'Beep', 'Beep' from the distant Moon and Mars, br I hear them from the Satellites of America, br But when I see on the silver sky countless stars, br I doubt, could they exceed the population of India? br br When I dream, the round globe suddenly turns flat! br What I wonder! Now where am I from my mat? br Am I standing like a Colossus with my right leg in India br And my left leg in America? br br When I say, the distance increases the bondage, br What I mean is the Heart of America, of this atomic age, br Countless are their tasks before, to come closer, br To bind the Soul of India, be rich or poor.