Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Futile Search

I search for an address
My permanent address
The one they write on our passports
And ration cards
Yet again, I am to vote
Without an address, a post office, a home

I search for my source
In distant lands
In faces that look fairer, in noses which are pointed
In houses that have land and a permanent roof
Yet again, I am without one
The only one that I had
Is lost now

I search for my roots, in flower pots

2 comments:

nerd2world said...

searching for roots in flower pots?! Nice, very nice... (sorry, lost the rest of my eloquence here)

Sanjay Peshin said...

we will nurture our roots even with our blood,even if given a Empty flower pots..

Dead End

Dead End
The road to what was once my home in Kashmir....zuv chum bramaan ghare gachehae..