Refugee.

A few days back I went to the launch of The Partition Museum which in all probability would be designed and set up in Dilli. The way the stories and experiences came up by the people on the panel and the ones who spoke after it was thrown open in front of the audience, to share, to question, are some of the things that stuck with me even after the talk got over. I couldn’t stop thinking and the very thought of people moving uncertainly every single day, losing their loved ones, going without food and shelter for weeks, and that constant movement of fear, gave me jitters. The comfort and support that we all are blessed with, is something that they had to leave, they were denied to call their own. To have slept under skies and fabrics of uneasiness is something that neither of us would ever realise, of how it feels.
This piece is titled Refugee and though I’m not totally satisfied with how it came out, I’m happy with some bits and had to pen down what I was feeling before I’d forget it.
.
Strutting
My faith lies in charred state
A house burnt to reality
I walk on blurred lines
Chalked out
Supposedly to get me back home
Home.
Home.
A roof on my head
An air breathing me safe
Safe to read out
To my little ones
Who clutch on to dupatta
We sleep between starry skies tonight
Heavens letting their guards down
Upon us, shining.
Moving ahead
Another day, another story
Another place
Another space in the head
A question of faith
And beliefs and rights
We seek a space
Righteously our own
To believe. To belong.
Strutting and dragging ahead till then,
My faith lies in charred state
At least for the time.

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