Sand
Sunayna Pal
This poem is from a collection of poetry on the Partition, titled ‘Refugees in their own Country’
Every morning,
she would sweep and sweep and sweep
but tiny particles accumulated yet again
making her sweep in the evening anew.
Every day, she hoped
she wouldn't have to sweep
Every single day she cursed
each and every particle
as she sweeped
the nikami[1] sand
and prayed for a life
where she didn’t have to sweep
where she could spend time
with her kids instead making pakwaan[2]
applying Henna
or watching them play.
Never did she imagine
Partition would make
this silly desire come true
giving her the urgent new dream
of returning to her home
filled with sand.
[1] Useless.
[2] Most famous Sindhi breakfast. Fried crispy flatbread that takes a little effort.
Every morning,
she would sweep and sweep and sweep
but tiny particles accumulated yet again
making her sweep in the evening anew.
Every day, she hoped
she wouldn't have to sweep
Every single day she cursed
each and every particle
as she sweeped
the nikami[1] sand
and prayed for a life
where she didn’t have to sweep
where she could spend time
with her kids instead making pakwaan[2]
applying Henna
or watching them play.
Never did she imagine
Partition would make
this silly desire come true
giving her the urgent new dream
of returning to her home
filled with sand.
[1] Useless.
[2] Most famous Sindhi breakfast. Fried crispy flatbread that takes a little effort.
Born and raised in Mumbai, India, Sunayna Pal happily resides in Maryland with her husband, children, plants, and an invincible goldfish. She is a third-generation refugee. Find more on her at sunaynapal.com. Follow her on LearningAboutSindh for more poems.
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