Tag: write

Here Am I.

“The only way to get over a death is by seeing it as a life completed, instead of a life interrupted.”

~anonymous

From the shimmering stars in the vast sky,
To the hazy people just passing by,
Somewhere between the chaos,
You gaze in the far distance,
Utter my name in the softest cry,
So darling, 
Here am I. 

From the maddening screeches of the crow,
To the soothing waves of the boat you row,
Somewhere between these sounds,
You miss someone you once knew,
And sigh,
So darling,
Here am I. 

From the ecstatic laughs of childhood in the street,
To the table of two with one empty seat,
Somewhere between these memories,
You look up to the sky,
Asking Him why,
So darling,
Here am I. 

From the hairdresser’s uneven hair locks,
To the cheeky kid’s mismatched socks,
Somewhere between these imperfections,
You show your toothy smile,
Proud that she’s taught the world to be a little less shy,
And though she’s gone now,
You hear her in every mark she left,
For the world isn’t black or white,
You don’t live or die,
So darling,
Here am I. 

Kaagaz Nahi The.

happy new year everyone:)

i was going to write a sappy poem about how great 2019 was but i figured i should be somewhat real and talk about how our country is doing right now as the world’s largest *coughs* ‘democracy.’

Here,
Just one shop sells dhokla,
rasgulla,
and halwa,
Just one whatsapp group sends eid mubarak,
merry christmas,
and happy holi,
Just one street has had ram mandir,
and babri masjid,
And when that one foreigner asks me about India,
The first thing that comes to mind is,
Unity in diversity,
Ekta mai hi shakti.
Lekin abh nahi.

For now,
When I visit that one shop,
I see that it’s once so welcoming doors,
Are now shut,
I ask kishore bhaiya why,
He tells me, 
‘Ahmed ke paas kaagaz nahi the.’ 
When I check that one whatsapp group,
I see that the ‘same to you,’
Has been replaced by,
blue ticks,
For sometimes,
Silence speaks louder than words.

And now,
When I walk past that street again,
Instead of groups of pilgrims,
with devotion in their eyes,
And faith in their hearts,
I still see groups,
But of people trying to scream loud enough.
For their voices to be heard,
Of people who haven’t gone home in 134 days,
Of people who seem to have lost the spark,
Who seem to have lost hope.

Hope that one day, 
They’ll see Ahmed again,
That one day their father in law,
will see past the clothes on their body,
And the name they chant,
And when that foreigner asks them about India again, 
One day,
Unity in Diversity,
Will be the first thing they’ll say.