refugee… by Pulkita Anand
Where can I free myself of the homeland in my body?
—M. Darwish
the birds took flight in fright
flew along the bank of Jhelum
leaving behind
home songs language people place peace prosperity...
the days months years, all are exiled
in the chaotic commotion
wondering at the conundrum of life
the feelings enmeshed entangled in the thorny bushes
the thorny path whose ways they didn’t know
a sound of fire reverberated the echo of cries and sighs
weary feet, weary hope, weary life
some lives stopped
some passed, some crossed
some got lost in these mazy meandering ways
some reached a far to a distant land
to build their imaginary homeland with a lost home in mind
so much to store in this little brain…
so much in this time’s train
loading unloading lost a p(i)e(a)ce of mind in this grind
the body weighs heavy with memories and place
a history carried on the body
the disjointed thoughts huddling feelings
made of babble and gibber
the half story in the half mind of the half Life
breeze imbued with the fragrance of homeland
bring tears and tear the heart
vocabulary got enriched
with new words in a new place with new people
exile expellee emigrant escapee fugitive refugee runaway
the mind that stored uncautiously
the memories of the past
mingling hope that might last long...