Missing the kuhu kuhu melody Of the hidden Koyal among fresh mango leaves, The squirrels running bindaas on the nariyal trees, The squeaky groan of the overloaded rusty swing never kid-free, The temple bells' reassuring chime, The next-door school kids' In chorus sing everytime, The 'rain, rain go away' rhyme.
The aromas from the kitchen stronger than any fancy appetizer, Recipes of monsoons are mixed with Granny's stories making us wiser, Mom's 'go get samosa' orders, From time to time, I am running chores, Picking up the umbrella heading outdoors, Venturing out in heavy downpours.
Dad turning newspaper pages, My sisters walk in, soaking wet, With angry drenched faces, With 'how the rain stopped the train' Stories grumbled out of pouts with grimaces.
Quickly drying the feet, First of all, to the kitchen heading, 'I am starving-pass the chutney', Then cosily cross-legged On the dining chair sitting, Slurpping chai, Kadak, mitthi adhrakhwaali. On the phone, Mom grumbling, 'Bai tu aaj pann nai aali? All biting into garama garam samosa, Yummy and mast teekhaa zyaadaa.
Missing home would include, Missing the unique dudhwalla excuse, Kal se dudh kyu hai paniwalla? The loud honking of the pick-up-at-doorstep riksha, 'Jaldi karo' prompts the impatient rikshawalla, Missing the calls of the rusk toast bhaiya,then the 'costly' bhajiwalla, The postman uncle greyed and smiling, Chatting and chitthi-delivering.
Missing the singing chorus of 'yere yere paavsaa', And the bacchoos hurriedly, Notebook ka page tearing, Busy with paper-boat making Dancing in puddles, their feet splashing.
With all the thunder and lightening, Arrey baba light gaya oh what a commotion So, lagta hai Humlog episode miss hoga, The clock ticks, the endless wait now for -light kab aayega- Like a mantra we repeat Hoping to watch Chitrahaar at least!
Swinging in the verandah, chatting, Killing mosquitoes and just chilling, For bunking work tomorrow no excuses-finding, Starting antaakshri and fav songs humming, Losing the game and then memories visiting Biting into kaju-katris, Recalling lost raincoats and stolen chhatris.
Evening Aarti in the temple begins, Aunties on the way to worship, Waving, and by mom invited,coming in Saying 'paaus bhaari hai So OK will come in Bas just for 2 minutes', Then for hours waiting,
'Why these showers so heavy, 'Baarish rukney ka naam hi nahi,' And about mom in law's abusive treatment revealing, Few moments of heaviness, With glances exchanging, A loud silence, a sigh, Then a ready 'OK' for an aadha cup of chai, Back to lovely samosas and chatter and laughter, Memories made in moments of bonding, Gulping tears with tea And moving onto factual 'khichdi' Cooking impromptu details with assal ghee, Savouring masaledaar gossiping.
In so many more ways untold, Missing my parents of course, Missing friends and folks for sure Putting together all this, 'Home' it is, Yes, yearning for home-coming, Being away from my ghar is hurting, Missing all this Connecting and caring, Home is so healing, so healing.
One thought on “My Hinglish poem: Missing home”
Samosa, chai, and the rain. Deadly combination! It was delightful to read your words. A lot of nostalgia in this. 🙂
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