Last month I came to Zaranj, Nimroz Province in Afghanistan which is most backward and lacks basic ameneties like hospital,road etc. I am working with an aid project constructing a stretch of vital road connecting this province with rest of Afghanistan and Iran. Last week Taliban kidnapped and beheaded one of our people. Everyones’ mood was at lowest ebb and thought of home occupied their mind. Of their children and wife and emphatising with the families of a friend who was no more. This is a little poem dedicated to his memory and sacrifice for humanity. which I wrote where my spirit travels beyond the lands of mortal enemies.
Walking Home
Roads were many;
And forked at places.
Lest I loose;
Took the route;
To the home that led.
Leaving behind;
Works and worries;
Where it belongs.
I tread on.
Lively is my step;
Gloom and worry;
Pain and weary;
Of body and soul;
Fades away;
As my spirit rise;
And home beckons;
I tread on.
Tinkling sound;
Of;
My little boy;
And;
Mirthful laughter;
of ;
My little daughter;
Sings in my mind.
Heavy was my heart;
And;
Lighter it grows as;
I tread on.
I long for;
Tender arms,
And long feet;
That embraced my body.
Delicate fingers;
That pricked my ears.
Nimble palms;
That searched my face.
I long for those smiles;
Which tells
Of thousand mischieves;
I long for tears;
That adorn;
Childs tender face.
That gleeful laughter;
And tenderly tear;
That rankling cheers;
Beckons me my dear.
I tread on.
Long is the way;
Longer still I have waited;
For my home and hearth.
Deeper and deeper;
My longing goes;
For a glance;
Of my loved ones.
Cold food;
Grimy water;
In a strange land;
Tells the tales;
Of love and warmth;
That home is made of my dear.
I tread on.
Though;
My feet crumples;
And head crumble;
My spirit soars;
Beyond mortals reach.
Over the mountains;
And the hills;
Seas and rivers,
Across the oceans
And desserts.
With wings;
Of winds and light;
I shall be home dear.
I tread on.
I tread on.