yatra memories

the achievement
of walking right across a flyover
and not feeling the strain

the strength
provided by the enthusiasm of
the teeming crowds

the father
who wanted his son to meet
the last of the few good men

the girl
who found the same comfort
like in her mother’s embrace

the grandmother wizened
turning back the clock
and remembering the Iron Lady

the rising sun
thawing out slowly fingers
too frozen to even type

the people
whose faces so beautifully lit up
when I said I was from Goa

and then my mates
all brilliant brave souls
same storm different boats

the slogans they rendered
still ring true in my ears
like echoes in eternity
a never ending ripple

the ultimate tribute;
whenever out of the blue
I will now hear “Awaaz Do”
I will know what to reply

--

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I write to remember. I write to remain honest. I write to leave a bread crumb trail for my daughter. I write to relax. Trying to impress my better half, I write

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Maruti Naik

Maruti Naik

180 Followers

I write to remember. I write to remain honest. I write to leave a bread crumb trail for my daughter. I write to relax. Trying to impress my better half, I write