The geography of my country poem by Rati Saxena- old stock From where does it start--the geography of my country? Straight from this chair Sitting on which I am putting stress on my brain? Or from that door step Which opens at that corner And reaches up to the heap of dirt Where the plastic bags are still quarrelling? I feel so However far I go away from my country I always remember the dirty spots, movements, and lanes with dirt No, such a big country’s geography cannot be so small! All highways, five-star hotels and lanes of sansad All started panting while reaching here All the questions turn into pieces As if kept on bomb of Hangama’s I am again helpless The geography of my country is related to sandy, icy and watery boundaries From there only lines of enmity starts I am wrong again We have grown the lines of enmity around us Which are hissing like cactus We are fighting our self And scratching our self I am still doubtful Geography? Whose? Of the country ? Then the country belongs to whom? Ops, my brain is not working Now I am ready to accept that definition Which decorates the geography In three colours, three linens and three corners.
Posted on: Thu, 10 Apr 2014 04:13:46 +0000
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