1. Thousand Faces Ten thousand we saw in a blink, It’s not daffodils moving along with zephyr, With the bounties showered in plains. This time, it’s the migrants. The migrants, Fighting two deadliest pandemics: COVID and hunger. The latter is familiar And former is in voices everywhere. The beads of sweat rubbed by red gumcha* never evaporated, The yearning to return home is discernible. One of them named Sakina walked a thousand kilometers for days So did many others. The kaccha house** awaited her arrival But the journey never culminated. Abandonment commenced, The invisible guest reigned Bleeding toes, sunburnt faces and many empty stomachs Fastened their way to homes. Beyond every pain, the rest of us numbed still moved on. And the second harrowing journey began. * Hindi word used in India to describe cotton towel for wiping sweat. ** A kind of…
“Thousand Faces,” Poetry by Gazala Khan
