LILY SWARN

 

Hiraeth

(A Welsh word for homesickness)

 

 He came

 Across the tossing of the oceans

 The unending expanse of the vast

 mountainous terrain

 The searing heat of the deserts

 In search of a place for himself

 In this colossal scheme of things

 The rigors of a fading peasantry

 The penury-stricken parents

 Gazing into the horizon

 With vacant eyes devoid of hope

 Burdened under the yoke of debt

 His swanky city education a

 waste

entirely spent in being a no good

  wastrel

 A way side Romeo way laying

pretty girls

Until he decided to sell the

 farmland

 And board the mighty air bus

 To fly into the land of plenty

 The dreamland that beckons

many a star gazer

Into its welcoming arms

 The grind began in earnest

 The readymade meals

 huge portions of fat dripping

 Faster than fast food

 The bone chilling cold

 Biting into his home sick heart

 Slapping his hopes with tsunamis

 Of autumn leaves taking him to

The valley where he was born

 The russet and gold blitzkrieg

 Shaking him out of his reverie

 An aching beyond measure

 Seeping like poison into his veins

 The sunsets of his homeland

 colouring the horrifying

nightmares

 With bloody shades of scarlet

 and crimson

The pattering of the rain flooding

 His eyes with copious tears

 Spilling into his cold as ice insipid

 salad

Making him howl for his mother's

cooking

 The fragrant basmati rice, the

 spices of India

 It was a hiraeth that had no

explanation

 Its lava bubbled into the cauldron

of His own demons lying helter

skelter

Burning with lapping flames

 As he saw the cherubic chortling

child

Whoop with ineffable joy from his

 Decorative baby stroller

 Ah! The alienation of the

immigrant

 When all was ailing in the world

 The only thing that mattered

 Was the sight of saffron fields

 His childhood sweetheart singing

 The song that was only theirs

 Her purple Chunni (scarf) flying

 Across the undulating hills

 The daffodils sauntering merrily

 Along with both of them. Copyright Lily Swarn

 

Silence

 

 Silence can be deafening

 Blaring and loud

It hits the eardrums with a

 ruthless vengeance

 Silence is ferocious

 A devil incarnates

 A spell from Hecate's crossroads

 Silence can kill by mutilation

 Gradually pouring venom in tiny

doses of non-communication

 Silence is indifferent

 Never hating or loving

 Merely disinterested

 Silence plunders and loots

 With battle axes of iron

 Hammers hitting temples

 soundlessly

 Rupturing veins and clogging

arteries

Silence is grapes squeezed into

wine

Crushed beyond redemption

 Bitten like nails

 Silence can be

blissful

 Serene and cloudless

 As a summer sky in the hills

 Silence reverberates ... Copyright Lily Swarn

 

Are You Serious?

 

 She was all of ten years

 Mangy mongrel eyes limpid

Hair sun bleached a burnt sienna

 Chirping and twittering as she

 mopped and swept

 Waif- like tribal girl from a remote

settlement

 Brought with a deluge of hungry

humans

To this chic city with swanky cars

 And humongous concrete

 skyscrapers

She craned her thin neck

 skywards

 Unable to see the tops of

buildings

Following her scrawny mother

dutifully

Suppressing yawns in the pale

misty dawn

 Clutching her bony body to its

 grimy tatters

 I asked her “Beta would you like

dal with your rice

 Or should I give you this

vegetable curry? She looked at me vacantly and

said “

“Give me salt Amma, I’ve never

tasted these. I like rice and salt

only”

 Suddenly ashamed of my opulent

 surroundings

 Eyes damp with horror at the

 child’s naïveté

 I sat down on wobbly legs

 Are you serious, Bachi?

 And then there were other

 childhoods

Nannies in tow, overflowing plates

disregarded

 Ikk takht pe hai baithha Ikk

 maangta dua hai .

 

Copyright Lily Swarn

 

LILY SWARN

 

LILY SWARN: Internationally acclaimed, multilingual poet, author, columnist, gold medalist, university colour holder, radio show host, Peace and Humanity Ambassador is from Chandigarh (U.T) . Books-A Trellis of Ecstasy, The Gypsy Trail, Lilies of the Valley, History on My Plate Rippling Moonbeams, Yeh Na Thi Hamaari Qismat, (urdu)A Passionate Affair with Trees. She won over 70 international and national awards like Reuel International Prize for Poetry, Global Icon of Peace, Sahitya Rattan Award, Gujarat Sahitya Akademi Award, 2020, 2021 Order of Shakespeare Medal. Featured in international anthologies and magazines. Lily’s poetry has been translated into over 21 languages. Best Indian Author Award 2021 ‘for History on my Plate, Lily is the recipient of Chandigarh Sahitya Akademi Award for Rippling Moonbeams. Lily has been recently appointed ambassador of World Union of Writers and Artistes from Portugal. The Global Leaders Alliance conferred Diploma of Merit on her. “For her remarkable career in the fields of letters and culture generating an intangible heritage for future generations”