Blah Blah from The TeaBreak Team.

For an IDP * like me, it’s just like Déjà vu,

I’m returning back to my home, in angst and blue.

In debris, bombshells, dead bodies and bricks,

I’ll seek my home where I played with my Sputniks*.

No matter in place of fruits, if hand grenades grow,

You can’t question fate if it’s destined to deathblow.

No matter instead of flowers, if gunpowder is the smell,

I’ll go beyond the feeling, I’ll mould myself to dwell.

My brain says “It’s destruction”; my heart, “It’s the motherland”,

It’s been too much of brain now, I ought to grab my heart’s hand.

By- Farrukh Zafar

*Sputnik : Soviet satellites sent into Earth orbit in the 1950s.

*IDP : Internally Displaced Person.

Today is the 12th of July, 2009, which signifies that from tomorrow onwards, the return of the refugees affected by the Swat war, starts. I believe each and everyone of us owes something to these immensely grief stricken people. And so I dedicate this poem to all my brothers and sisters who made such a big sacrifice for their country.

I salute you. And I pray for your safe and peaceful rehab that’s worth your heavenly homes.

This cup of tea was served by: FARRUKHz PLANET