America

They look North And they see a welfare system Of a generous maple leaf nation. The sugar maple destinies of Syrian refugees Slinking through Ataturk’s ambit Through little geometries in Cappadocia. They look South They see mules stashed with babies And fetuses, crossing the Chihuahua dessert Plodding on cracked earth Crawling through a little hole…

My PhD Years at Home

On the cul-de-sac Our home lied – Where I spent my 20s. A place of fond memories – My PhD years. It is a very uncommon practice For a man to spend his post-graduate years In his parents’ house. But I was an outlier. I didn’t wish for anything else. Sometimes, home is not just…