Friday, 17 June 2016

In the camps of Idomeni

The lazy smoke rising from the campire,
Children playing football, it's twilight,
In the camps of Idomeni.

Voices speak of the ancient cities of Damascus,
Of Aleppo, of the silk route towns of Herat & Kandahar,
In the camps of Idomeni.

Dreams of Berlin, of Scandinavian smiles,
Of warm beds to sleep in, of bread, of better lives,
In the camps of Idomeni.

A boy smiles awkwardly at a girl, they do not speak each other's tongue,
She is unsure what to do, it's all Greek to them,
In the camps of Idomeni.

Context : At the start of the Syrian & Middle Eastern crisis, many people were forced to run from the destruction of war, and escape into Europe on crowded boats where many died. One of the first camps the survivors encountered was Idomeni in Greece. The European authorities had bundled them into the camp while they processed their applications for refugee status. I saw a documentary and was moved to know more about them via articles and news features. This piece of writing is a result of that.

Saturday, 9 January 2016

When you kiss someone


When you kiss someone,
You don't just kiss their lips,
You kiss their smiles, their dreams,
Their fears, their insecurities.
You kiss their memories
And every one of their stories.

Saturday, 7 November 2015

9pm on a Saturday night


It was just before Andheri station
9pm on a Saturday night
The girl was holding back a yawn when their eyes met
She smiled disarmingly at him
His eyes shone in surprise
A moment of reaffirmation of warmth
In this tirelessly cold world.

Thursday, 24 September 2015

Eid Mubarak

Dheeme se sapnon se jaagti hui zindagi, kitchen mein chai banne ki aahat. Subah ho rahi hai, Eid mubarak.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Dhaba

Punjabi cholleyan di khushbu, naal poori tallan di awaaz. Do mukka pyaaz, te dur truck da horn bajda hove.


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Thursday, 26 February 2015

Speak to me

Speak to me in whispers of the breeze,
in the dance of a monsoon tree,
in the wistful mists of a cloud,
in the golden caress of a sunbeam.

Speak to me in the poetic majesty of the Sagrada,
in the language carved on a frieze,
in the proud stillness of a campanile.

Speak to me in the boldness of the night,
in the audacity of the rain,
in the magic of the morning light.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Monday, 18 August 2014

I say you are beautiful


I see you, 
through the places I've visited, 
of the stories I've been told, 
of dreams I'm yet to live, 
through the lens of my soul.

I say you are beautiful,
through the way I've learnt to smile,
the way I know how to breathe,

the way I know what's wrong, what's right.