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Jomini Feb 2013
Big netted leaves falling from tall Saag trees,
Walking  with me  on a curvy road,
Slowly disappearing into the hills,
Cool breeze and the bluebird that sing along,
The bells in a cow's neck grazing by,
A black korku kid dancing on its tunes,
His mother washing clothes on the river,
As the water played with little white stones,
The lush green wheat fields spreading across horizons,
And the yellowish huts below the blue skies,
An old man calls me and offers some rotis,
No ,Thank you Sir, But I've got miles to cover,
Till I meet the chilly cold night !
Flame Oct 2018
We are stopped for special checks
At TSA and immigration

We are murdered
In our house of worship
Six innocent lives lost
Oak Creek Gurdwara, 2012

Racial slurs hit our hearts:
*******
ISIS
Towel head

Out of fear
We stop wearing our beautiful salwar kameezes, lenghas, saris, and kurta pajamas
In colors and embroidery your clothes could only ever dream of
We take off our crowns you call turbans
And replace them with baseball caps

We think twice about speaking Punjabi,
Our mother tongue,
Around those that don't recognize it

We stop packing our grandma's handmade saag and roti
To school for lunch
And start eating
Processed Lunchables

We separate into two people
Our American selves
And our Punjabi selves
Almost never does anyone meet both

All because
You don't know
The difference
Between a Sikh and a terrorist
Dara Brown Dec 2014
so they say
love
is better the second time around
&
its a lot like
going in for seconds
when you already know
how the first dish tasted
but
you just can’t get enough
so
you head back
for more

i wonder
if you’re as good
as my second plate
of saag paneer
i’ve been working on
for the last half hour
knowing i’m too full
to continue
but willing to stuff myself completely
for the sake of
feeling
complete
& utter fulfillment
of you

— The End —