My homeland


A place alive with the song of birds

Where prevails, tales of miracles—

And enchanting music of nature dear.

Where,

In the hazy blue of early morning

Come those heart warming sounds—

The chirruping of thousands of birds

The flapping of their wings

Speeding through the gossamer mists

And those arising, divine babblings.

The date palms, the monkeys and the temples,

Where sit subtly coloured songbirds

Singing their hearts out…….



Nature here, connects sense with sensibility

Melds shapes and colours….

Its amplified, echoing silence

The reverberating music

The call of the night

The phenomenal tranquility….

Gives me profound joy.



The urge of the world of practicality

The suffocating confines of hostel life

Nostalgia for sights, sounds, and tastes of native land,

Lays bare a part of my own yearnings.



Those secret cravings….

For traditional food…..

For the presence

Of the kith and kins...

And for having those flights of fancies…

The wafting fragrance of thy eyes.



Somewhere within the depths of life here

Emerges a life….woven delicately,

Through the tapestry of grandma tales…

I dream

Of escape…..

From the confines of this world…

And my heart aches

To return home.

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