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On The Street Where I Belong

Noted Nest

Updated: Oct 5, 2024

By Sakshi Bhatia



I Longed

To belong

Like the way

I heard in a song

That was sung by the

Beggar woman sitting outside 

Hustling for money

And entertaining

The vegetable sellers

Sniggering at her madness

And mocking her sadnessBut there was some amount of 

 gladnessin the air 

For the sun

The trees

And green leaves

And fruits and coconut water

“She too was someone’s daughter

I for one, was no one’s wife.”

It may be a fight, Strife

But life was life.”


“As a looker, a sophisticated hooker

With a booker

Prize winning

Novel

Clutched In hand,

I pretended to understand everything

And knew nothing about

The twisted ways

Of the world and the streets.I felt the desperation to belong

And sing a nice song

And maintain the tune

And not howl at the moon

And make a public outcry

About how people

Die such horrible deaths

And live such strange lives.with their perpetually drunk husbands 

And unhappy industrious gossipy wives.

                                                     In 

So many over-crowded hives

So many lies, so many eyes

So much to realize

So much to think about

And how to belong

How to be right

How to be artfully wrong

How to learn from mistakes

And give and take

And be smart about money

And not give away free honey

Because the bees are running

Out of steam and are being

Replaced

By cyborgs

And robots

And zombies.”

“ON THIS STREET, where I supposedly 

belong there live 

Tomboys who identify as men

And women who identify as dogs

And dogs that identify as friends

And friends that identify as enemies

And enemies that identify as neighbors

Who labor all day & night

To keep the home fires

Burning bright.

In the cat race and the rat-race

In modern caves

On little streets

Where I long to belong

And sing a song

Even if it is a little out of tune.

For Tomorrow

There will be another moon

With Another loon

On the streets hustling

In the bustling 

Of this strange planetthat needs aliens to man it 

And devices to scan it 

Over the counter 

Made of granite 

And marbles

That have been lost and found because the planet itself was round 

&the street where I belong is straight 

And there is truly something great 

About living 

And being alive

For which 

I had to believe

That I was worth it 

Without products of lo’real 

Lining the shelf 

And self help is 

To Be unreal 

And make the damned art 

Birth it.

This scorched earth 

Just skirt it 

Work it 

Write it 

Take the apple and bite it. 

The gravity 

Of belonging is not the fiefdom 

Of the fit and the strong 

And the rich who are ever wrong 

And always right 

About being polite 

And not dwelling in madness

Because the vendors and sellers 

Will mock the sadness 

Of every woman 

Hustling the streets

Longing to belong.  

Singing a song. 

For your entertainment. 


By Sakshi Bhatia




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1 Kommentar


aloo
aloo
26. Juli 2024

omg , what did i read feeling blessed that i read and enjoy it so well written


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