City poem: Home Bittersweet Home
Home bittersweet Home
As beautiful as the picturesque city of Kangra,
A house which was locked for years, A city which is open for any and everyone
A city with innocent and humble people, I am from there.
At night it looks like Van Gogh's starry night, A dark blue sky with a big moon you always want to catch.
Each time I went there i felt closer to heaven.
With all the cattle, I once was a shepherd.
Drinking different flavored tea on the top of the mountain, everything is small when i look down.
Played with snow , made a snow man, made angels, Who knew i will never see this again.
Delhi is my home now!
Staring at walls all time, buildings so tall they hide the sun.
The city is a blur.
The city is confused.
Yet, I love one thing about it all, when the songs of love to a million gods, a harmony of prayers swirl into each other amidst all smoke and dust a faint magic too floats in the air.
By Tanya
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As beautiful as the picturesque city of Kangra,
A house which was locked for years, A city which is open for any and everyone
A city with innocent and humble people, I am from there.
At night it looks like Van Gogh's starry night, A dark blue sky with a big moon you always want to catch.
Each time I went there i felt closer to heaven.
With all the cattle, I once was a shepherd.
Drinking different flavored tea on the top of the mountain, everything is small when i look down.
Played with snow , made a snow man, made angels, Who knew i will never see this again.
Delhi is my home now!
Staring at walls all time, buildings so tall they hide the sun.
The city is a blur.
The city is confused.
Yet, I love one thing about it all, when the songs of love to a million gods, a harmony of prayers swirl into each other amidst all smoke and dust a faint magic too floats in the air.
By Tanya
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