• Call Me Home

    Ananya S Guha

    January 8, 2019

    Île aux Fleurs near Vétheuil, Claude Monet, Oil on canvas, 1880| Image Courtesy: Metropolitan Museum of Art


    I have sturdily climbed
    the taut ropes 
    in a series of bickering 
    life is that-
    my mother's story is 
    that of partition of a country 
    homeland is just another 
    whiff of a dream.

    Hills that come to me in readiness

    Yes they do 
    but sometimes static
    sometimes explosive 
    imploding in my dreams 
    they are esoteric
    flights of fantasy 
    and in turbulent waters
    amidst opacity 
    I dream


    Call me wherever I am 
    in these hills
    dressed in pines
    and when the aroma 
    is missing
    I weep for lost childhood
    suddenly the dog barks 
    the raucous wind is another 
    testimony to permanence

    Call Me Home

    You said leave it 
    leave these hills 
    they have witnessed 
    blood, anger 
    but standing steadfast 
    on sturdy rocks 
    I see love 
    in nothingness 

    call me home please 
    once again


    The anatomy of desire 
    lies in these jagged mountains
    the monoliths are lugubrious 
    I want to wish away 
    every dream
    in minutiae of tight moments


    Ananya S Guha is a writer based in Shillong. He works at Indira Gandhi National Open University (IGNOU) as a senior academic.

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