My Home Lies Underwater

by Pitambar Naik

Pitambar Naik’s poem rues the debilitating effect that urbanization has had on the homes of millions of people.

Where the tickling gentle breezes swung around
Where the shiny, grey and blue peacocks chugged without any fear
The fiery and fickle maids composed rhapsodies
With the shameless lilies, lotuses and night jasmines
Was there my home.

Trekking the steep hills, making a peaceful cohabitation
Among the goddesses of forests
Listening to the heartbeats of singing birds
Immersing in the epochal serenity of lively transverse meadows
Amidst the silver fish in the lively crystal waters.

No dirty smudge, full of insane creeks like cities
All political fuss and dead carcasses envy of one’s own blood
Court cases against the siblings

I miss terribly my home lies underwater
Her dead body under the garb of development
Devastation dehumanized me I have a mobile rough-and-ready home.

It pricks my heart, slashes to bleed
When the street lights glow
The dance pubs and casinos across the city
Hardly appeal as soothing, romantic rhythms.

I rush to the main street, then to the road and station
And ultimately set my feet somewhere far off
Can’t find the door post, bushes of night jasmines, periwinkles, fig and lemonade trees
Immortal nights dance, the age-old mahua trees gossip a musical story in summer.

The heights of the skyscrapers accumulate false divine bliss, charmless
I have heard series of dismayed and gloomy stories, how they slit my heart!

The lost home of my ancestors tells volumes
They still live in me, with the silhouettes of greenery, refreshing blood like oxygen
The dancing brook of antiquity offers me a hope to see a home of that sort.

Pic from https://www.flickr.com/photos/aktugan/

Pitambar Naik hails from Odisha and is based in Hyderabad. He is a poet and advertising copywriter.