orange saree
softly shines
in the mild winter sun
against blinding green
you drape your pallu
around your head
i watch
from behind the window
of an air-conditioned
train compartment
the screen that
separates us
you, picking paddy
in mud-covered feet
me, sitting on my berth
with notepad and pen
using you
as my muse
both of us
born of the same soil
in the same country
but suddenly, I wonder
if being there
makes you
more Indian
than I am.
softly shines
in the mild winter sun
against blinding green
you drape your pallu
around your head
i watch
from behind the window
of an air-conditioned
train compartment
the screen that
separates us
you, picking paddy
in mud-covered feet
me, sitting on my berth
with notepad and pen
using you
as my muse
both of us
born of the same soil
in the same country
but suddenly, I wonder
if being there
makes you
more Indian
than I am.
3 comments:
I'm not wise enough to know such answers but your poem definitely makes me think about it.
True ....this land is still agricultural in its nature.
I think noticing her and writing this makes you very much Indian as well :)
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