By Priyanka Dave
I am from Brick Games, a joyful child
One who loves pen fights & Pokémon card
I am from the sweet smell of wet soil
From the mud & dirt,
the inner turmoil.
I am from the Veranda of my home,
Outside & Detached.
Whose protective shade, feels like my own.
I am from the ones,
Who is labeled as ‘far too attached?’
I’m from the crimson petals of roses,
That dances its way through thorns.
The drizzling raindrops on my window panes,
Makes me wonder
“What’s the blessing disguised in this pain?”
I’m from a middle-class family, getting less yet wanting more,
Known for the art of recycling & ‘jugaad’ at the core.
From making mop out of old & torn clothes,
To squeezing toothpaste till last ounce
I’m from the dreams, strangled by reality’s pounce
I’m the result of my mother’s sacrifices,
On her dream’s graveyard,
stand my successes.
From my father’s sweat and tears,
The foundation stone of ‘ME’ was laid in past years.
The ‘cutting chai’ with vada pav,
The hustle of Mumbai locals
From the richest Ambani to the poorest slums,
I’m from Amchi Mumbai
Where dreams, opportunities, and festivity never cease!
Eyes that are filled with dreams
Are also puffy, red
And, swelled up with tears
The only question keeps pondering
“Am I chasing my dreams or dreams are chasing me?”
As my soul is wavering between the two SELVES
From, “Keep working hard” self
To, “Keep working hard but at what cost?” self
By Priyanka Dave
👌👍
Beautiful!
Awesome
Harsha Dave
Awesome
Great poem!!!