India Is Her Name


In honor of my more than exciting upcoming return to India, I want to share with you a poem (very amateur) I wrote many years ago, along with a few images. Okay, so I’m no Keats, but perhaps it demonstrates the love I have for this most magical of countries. It’s 12 years since I was last there…waaaaay too long…and quite simply I can’t wait.

India is her name

‘Evocative, repulsive, exotic, compulsive,

such a place I’ve traveled, to return much I’d give,

measures equal, serene beauty versus arduous pain,

against odds uneven, timeless dignity remains,


Amidst filth and squalor, death and anguish,

lies a peace and serenity, more respect I could not wish,

amazing grace in abundance, holy rivers and manners run deep,

a people so gracious, in shame did I weep,


In a land of plenty, yet a billion empty hands,

my own right to entitlement, I could no longer stand,

what one wants and one needs, in a moment becomes clear,

only sustenance to live, and warm hearts to hold dear,


Both her mountains and people, spectacular by birth,

I wager could not be found, a more honest place on earth,

despite her palaces and paupers, sacred cows, holy in vain,

cherished memories she gave me, and India is her name.’

By Steven Moore

Me and Camel, Rajah I



Jaisalmer I

Taj Mahal editedAll images by the Nomad, except cover feature courtesy of

3 thoughts on “India Is Her Name

  1. Pingback: Life On Koh Yao Noi, Where the Biggest Decision Is Which Beach To Choose | Twenty First Century Nomad

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