Poetry | Aani
The eyes behold the vistas vast,
In Bana, where sights are steadfast.
A quaint town rests in Pakistan's domain,
Its landscape, tranquil, holds a certain reign.
Resonating echoes of laughter thrive,
Among farmers, landowners, souls who strive.
Wanderers, wives, children, and the aged,
Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs engaged,
Bound as brethren in unity's embrace,
Each voice blending in a linguistic maze.
Hindi, Urdu, and Punjabi's blend,
Their common thread, a cultural blend.
Attired alike in varied hues,
Dwellings grand with cozy views,
Gardens sprawling, rooms intimate,
In culinary harmony they partake.
Diverse, yet bonded in a kinship's glee,
A tapestry woven in unity.
From harmonies, joys, and mirth's ballet,
These eyes beheld a disarray,
Where strife and conflict etched a scar,
Shattered peace, left the land ajar.
From ruin's grasp, fragments took flight,
These eyes bore witness to that plight.
Now, fixated upon this being,
I reside in Uttar Pradesh, serene and freeing,
Where echoes of laughter harmonize,
People converse in shared reprise.
Similar abodes, tastes akin,
Yet I speak three tongues, a unique spin.
Hindi, English, Bana's native song,
Privileged to savor dishes lifelong,
Crafted by my grandmother's hand,
A heritage that I proudly stand.
To Delhi, these eyes have set their gaze,
Seeking a new chapter, untold blaze,
A migration's odyssey, a quest untamed,
For a new abode where dreams are framed.