My Land Is Just The Other Side Poem by Bashyam Narayanan

My land is just the other side
But I wonder when again I will be back there
I am not too old to understand
Things happening around
I used to play with other kids in the street
Hiding and seeking
Sometime with bat and ball
Some of us calling ourselves
With the names of the cricketing heroes of our land
We were taught our mother tongue in the school
We were taught the glories of our island nation
Our plays get interrupted not by anything else
But by warring planes and at times cross shooting fires
We too had big temples for our traditional gods
Which we used to visit on festivities
Often cautiously prepared for any eventuality
I do not know what prompted my parents to leave
Our beloved land
In a boat across the sea
Which was away by a thee hours walk
With whatever belonging we can carry
I remember that long walk
As I was particular about holding my school bag
And small statue of Lord Buddha
Which was awarded to me in school stage performance
We reached the other shore
After a riskily shaking boat travel
Over an apparently angry sea
On our arrival we were guided to a camp
Where I saw families known to us
Though camp authorities made all attempts
To add comfort to us
We hardly feel homely
No home, no felt-comfort, no school, no play, no temple
Though living, no life
We experience death while living
Some of us stand as a chain holding hands
On the sea shore
Looking at the sea we cry
My land is just the other side