“What is there on the other side of the river?”
Asked my grandmother.
“Bangladesh”, I said. “The country of your birth!”
The river was the boundary
Between the two countries,
Between many aspirations, dreams;
Once an anxious yearning to cross
For those,
Who had tried to save their lives
By crossing over and
in the process became labelled as refugees
during Bangladesh’s Liberation war.
“My childhood is left back
on the other side”,
My aged grandmother said.
“Perhaps lonely today.
Perhaps it roams about
Wearing the garb of serenity
That nature stitches for all
Amid the gentle lapping
Of the moon lit river water
On the river bank.
This serenity induces
A sense of nostalgia,
Perhaps a longing even today”.
this serenity colours my thoughts blue!
I wish I could hold on to the clouds
And cross the river’s boundary.
I wish I could sit with my childhood,
Bathed in my moonlight,
Wrapped in my silence,
In the serenity of my river bank,
One more time!”

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta

Author: gdutta17

Born in the year 1968, my childhood was spent amidst the beautiful scenic landscape of a small town in India, Ranchi. Though an engineer by qualification, reading, writing and cooking are my passions. Another thing that I am passionate about is my country, India. As they say, a lifetime is probably not enough to explore the whole of India. Currently based in Kolkata, I can be reached at

16 thoughts on “Homesick”

      1. Well I deleted the Cobbled Contemplations blog–and moved over here 🙂 You can still call me “Rhen” if you like, or “Z” or “Zelda”–doesn’t matter. Now that we’re back on the Follows again, we’re good to go!:)

        Liked by 1 person

    1. So happy to know that you enjoyed my poem. The picture is so beautiful that it automatically evokes happy memories, I guess. I have often heard a grandma of mine talk of her village, which is now on the other side of the border and how it was a quaint village nestled on the banks of a river. This picture evoked those memories in my case. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I can’t even imagine the memories our elders have had to give up. Once when I was talking to my Mother in Law… she was telling me about a solider who she new on a ship that was sunk…
    In a photo of her I have as a younger woman she looks very sad and cynical. Growing up during the depression must have been a very difficult time. I think though later in life her strong spirit helped her to cope especially after her husband passed…

    Most often we do not get that chance to go back… except in memories. And you did a very fine job of expressing the melancholy of that.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much. So happy to know that you liked my writing. You are absolutely correct about the memories…with passage of time, sometimes the roads to go back get closed. Then it is only the memories that one has to cling to.

      Liked by 1 person

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