In a colony
of one hundred and fifty refugees,
they marry
only among themselves
giving birth to deformed children.
Weddings and cremations
take place
side by side.
A refugee's son
looks for his roots
elsewhere.
(C) Jatin Gandhi
April 19, 2000
Sunday, February 25, 2007
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2 comments:
I can relate to the poem.
Are you from a Partition refugee family?
yes i am.
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