Far-away lands, sugar-cane and coconut palms
A poem by Navishkar Ram
Photo by Nur Andi Ravsanjani Gusma from Pexels
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The suffering of my ancestors is etched in my skin
It follows me no matter how hard I run
It wants to break through
And bloody my body
–
Red
I’m drenched in blood
Their screams and pain are mine
The remnants of Empire
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Islands that are all-green
Ploughed with coarse hands
Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian hands
Scarred with the remnants of a once warm embrace
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Sugar-cane and coconut palms
Wafts of tortured souls
Swaying in the breeze
The breath of empty lives moving them seaward
Looking forever towards home
