Krishna's Music for Justice

Where Carnatic's notes on temple walls reside, A melody awakens, draped in Kalanidhi's pride. T.M. Krishna, a voice that cuts through time, Weaving music's magic with a spirit so sublime. His renditions, rivers rich with history's flow, Not just in rhythm, a conscience starts to grow. He shatters gilded cages, tradition's aged decree, Embraces justice, a symphony for all to see. Like verses etched in Ashoka's weathered stone, His music speaks of rights, where every soul is known. Equality's raga, a soaring bansuri's call, Echoes through the chambers, dismantle caste's high wall. The mridangam's thunder, a drum for sacred ground, A plea for balance, where nature's peace is found. He sings of forests, emerald lungs that gasp for breath, A protest is echoing, defying nature's death. His voice, a metaphor, a veena's soulful cry, Strikes down injustice with truth that cannot die. Democracy's anthem, a jal tarang's gentle chime, For freedom's nectar, a melody sublime. The Kalanidhi, a weight that honours all he's done, A recognition, not just for music, but the battles won. To keep the raga pure, its message ever clear, A symphony of conscience, year after a challenging year. So let his melodies forever inspire, A fusion born from tradition and righteous fire. T.M. Krishna, the Kalanidhi's light shall gleam, A testament to progress, a voice within a dream.