Birthplace (Rural Sindh)

desert with
its mystery lanes,
absolutely
stunning planes

People welcoming,
rural scene
million times
I have been

it is still refreshing
earth talks to me
telling all the tales
who succeeded and failed

what happened
to that buddy of mine
losing all hopes
still he shined

life, it travails
still around
walk in Bazaar,
smiles abound

everyone acknowledges
your being, presence
care and affection
no city ignorance

London, New York
Rio and Rome
all seen and measured
nothing like home

and I am home
it feels good
and it should!

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105 thoughts on “Birthplace (Rural Sindh)”

    1. Thank you so much for the compliment, beauty is all around us we just need to take notice. I am really glad that it also reminded you of your childhood πŸ™‚ I will be posting more of the same soon!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. The feeling of being home again is incomparable. There’s this compulsive devouring of the familiar and the curiosity and search for the new. Never cease to induce a smile. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I love the poem – it feels like you found the exact words to describe the feeling deep in my heart with this – “earth talks to me telling all the tales” . I love exploring new and old places in the foreign lands and at home and that’s exactly how I feel, as if earth talks to me painting the most magnificent pictures and telling me the most interesting stories.

    Your pictures are amazing as well! Thank you for this amazing experience and journey you took us on with this post! πŸ™‚

    Like

  3. Thank you for liking β€œRed Geraniums.” I enjoyed your wonderful, colorful photos and heartfelt poem. It made me think that it is indeed a fortunate circumstance to grow up in a loving home and a close-knit community.

    Your post reminds me of the stories that my father would tell me of his childhood home. He lived in a rural area and grew up on a farm. His family grew various crops and sold them at the local market. Your photos of chickens and goats made me think about his pet rooster and his pet goat. He also had a dog. Although the rooster and the dog did not get along, they would look for my dad together when he was out trying to find grass for the water buffaloes that pulled the plow on the farm. The dog would track my dad, and the rooster would follow. The people in his neighborhood knew each other and helped each other out. He learned some useful skills from some of his neighbors, and they sometimes gave him odd jobs to do that allowed him to earn a little extra money. Life was not easy for my father when he was young. His family was poor, and he often spent so much time doing work on the farm that he did not have a lot of time for his school work. However, he was happy that he grew up where he did and would not trade his experiences there for the world.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dear Arlene, such a wonderful description of your father’s life. I think you should write a brilliant story of an immigrant’s life in USA (fiction with some interesting side stories) and use all the wonderful (and sometime painful) experiences which you nicely document and are able to articulate so wonderfully πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you, AB. πŸ™‚ I am glad that you enjoyed my description. It might be fun to try to write a fiction story somewhat based on my life experiences when I have a little more free time than I do now.

        What I have also been thinking about is writing down the stories that my mother and father told me about their lives and some of the advice that they gave to me. I don’t plan on publishing them, but it would be nice to have a record of them.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. You are very kind Jack, well the scent is of the dessert I am from when the first drops of rain touches the sand after a long and hard scorching summer πŸ™‚

      Like

      1. Really? I am fortunate to meet such an awesome person whose place of birth is same as mine and who is sharing his magical work with a huge crowd. (Y)

        Like

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