Stuck between the place where the earth meets the sea,
On the banks of a distant land,
An island overcome by the waves of grief,
The ships pass us by,
The shikara will not stop today,
Nostalgia overcomes all;
Memories call me home.
The rise of the sun,
Carries with it unparalleled beauty,
But my skies still cry,
The fall of the snow brings peace,
But the clouds singing me to sleep,
Are aware of the desperate need to return.
Nowhere had I ever felt peace,
Not since bhaiya departed,
Not until I entered the valley of home.
I open my suitcase and it engulfs me – whole,
Vividly, like the earth of my father’s village,
Like the sun kissed valleys,
Coming to the end of their green,
Had followed me here,
And I can’t call this home any more,
Because here, I never belonged.
Standing on two banks, of one river,
Altogether at once, will not tear me apart,
Standing on two sides of the globe,
When there is familiarity felt by my soul,
Standing against all that I was taught to know,
There is me trying to fit in,
And there is me laughing and at peace,
Standing between my dhadha ji’s mango tree,
And my beautiful peak in the east.
Stuck between the gardens of my father’s youth,
And the world from my mother’s point of view,
Standing on the line between peace and war,
Between my heart and yours,
Nostalgia overcomes me,
My father’s youth, my mother’s point of view,
My dhadha ji’s mango tree,
Your peak over in the east..
I can’t ignore that they are all..
Calling me home.