To realize
The value of a sister
Ask someone
Who doesn’t have one.
To realize
The value of ten years:
Ask a newly
Divorced couple.
To realize
The value of four years:
Ask a graduate.
To realize
The value of one year:
Ask a student who
Has failed a final exam.
To realize
The value of nine months:
Ask a mother who gave birth to a still born.
To realize
The value of one month:
Ask a mother
who has given birth to
A premature baby.
To realize
The value of one week:
Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.
To realize
The value of one hour:
Ask the lovers who are waiting to Meet.
To realize
The value of one minute:
Ask a person
Who has missed the train, bus or plane.
To realize
The value of one-second:
Ask a person
Who has survived an accident…
To! realize
The value of one millisecond:
Ask the person who has won a silver medal in the Olympics
Time waits for no one.
Treasure every moment you have.
You will treasure it even more when
you can share it with someone special.
To realize the value of a friend:
Lose one.
So lately, I’ve been feeling out of touch with the indian part of me and i cant help but write a poem about it.
She came from the land of elephants and tigers.
She came from a land of colors and spiders.
She came from the land filled with gold.
She came from a land where her people were sold.
She came from the land of spices and romance.
She came from a land that captures with one glance.
She came from a land of battles and horrors.
She came from a land that knows no borders.
She came from the land that she knew so well to a new place which felt like living in hell.
No elephants, no rickshaws, no marigold streets.
Only lies, racists, whores, and cheats.
She lost her India in one plane ride.
She lost her pride when the plane took its dive.
She lost her smile, her sari wasnt in style.
She lost her tase, no curry paste.
She listend to rap, her punjabi was crap.
She got surronded my unfamilar faces.
She got to see new races.
No golden temple no taj mahal, only burger kings and mini malls.
She went from a village, to a subdivision.
She went from playing cricket, to watching television.
She went from hot sun to tanning uv’s.
She went from camels to suv’s.
She went from having the dadaji of her dreams, to the baap of her nightmares.
She knows what she is, but she wants to blend.
India is the only thing that could cause this heart to mend…
She feels out of touch, she feels out of race.
Its as though she has a whole new face.
Owl eyes and black hair, thick in the waist. Its no wonder she feels so out of place.
From bamboo to shampoo, from sand to spam.
America owns her, it gave her a brand.
But no matter how i feel or what i say india, is my land
my land of culture
my land of languages
my land of family
my land of embraces
my land of colors
my land of monsoons
my land of passion
my land of vengeance
my land of music
my land of dances
my land of pleasures
my land of poetry
my land of riches
my land of women
my land of fields
my land of elephants
my land of godesses
my land of spirits
my land of anklets
my land of kajal
my land of clay
my land of crafts
my land of individuality
my land of pride
my land of courage
my land of humility
my land of peacocks
my land of waters
my land of religions
my land of shrines
this is my land… and im so happy to have found it again…..
