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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