Poetry

Introducing My Country to a Tourist

Keen was he to see

the map of my country

and I handed him a peepul leaf.

He looked astounded. I asked,

‘Does it not look like the heart?’

He wanted to know

the boundaries of my country

and I pointed toward

the flying birds far-off.

When asked about my country’s history

I, in turn, asked him about

the history of earth and water.

He longed to hear my country’s song

and I told him to listen

to roosters crowing at dawn,

pigeons cooing and rain humming,

children crying and children giggling.

Eager was he to know

the faiths of my country

and I related to him

the pristine stories of embracing.

 

When asked about my country’s language

I in turn asked him about

the language of tears and laughter.

                                                                              ~Manprasad Subba

                                                                            Darjeeling, India

One Comment

  1. Powerful indeed