The yellow ChinarA Poem by Charu Singh
Walking under the quite Chinar trees,
Suddenly a leaf of it hit my forehead, As I grabbed it in my hands, let's my mind freeze, I remembered that day when I was going to bed. The time felt so familiar, I was a little kid, Playing with kids all so similar, The weather was peaceful. Next day the riots break, People shooting others like a freak, The war was not among angel and demons, It was among religions. This led to our families heartbreak, And we left Kashmir, As in our mind was a crack. I bought a young Chinar plant, But was too young to understand, That the plants need a perfect weather to implant. Those small little leaves withered, And all I did was shattered. The only desire I'm my young mind Was to have my own house. With a yellow Chinar in my home In winters, and myself sitting Inside that tree in blanket Like a mouse. © 2020 Charu Singh |
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