Anshu Naidu

Anshu Naidu Poems

Anshu Naidu Biography

Currently i am a uni student. I've been leaving in Australia for nearly 10 years now, but I still get wishful about returning 'home' which i no longer feel is anywhere. Not here nor there.... I love writing poetry and disecting others works...lol. I am also interested in co-write so if you are interested just leave me a msg. Lovely day to all, smile - always.)

The Best Poem Of Anshu Naidu

Home Sickness (Co-Write With Arshu)

A flake flies aimlessly down,
Only to be lost in the muddied ground…
The cold trace of the ice distinct - even in the chilly rain…
A small puddle left behind
Brings pleasure to the unsuspecting children
Gleefully stomping without the burden
Of understanding the lasting imprint left behind,
The seedling of dissatisfaction planted firm

The sourness of laughter, the alienating humiliation
Demanding to know if it’s a crime to be different.
A question lingering in the mind, a question of why?
Why, a flake is distinguished from its watery origins?
The colour, the accent, and everything else
That makes you you are mocked and wondered upon.

A wish to be a bird, to fly home when the weather changes,
To welcome the new sprouts and revisit the old places,
To fill that puddle that has dried up with cheers of friendship old
To lay your head on the pillow that comforted you on stormy nights
To chase away that old dog that barked you insane on full moon nights,
And just inhale the sweet scent of flowers wafting soothingly in the night air …

The fragrant air and the soil
I roll and roll and never tire,
The intimate squirrel that steals rice particles
From my backyard, the domestic crow that crows
When it sees me with a jasmine on my lock
And I shoo it away to discover it’s stubbornly teasing me -
nicely perched on the guava tree.

The clouds of monsoon familiar since the time
I was in frock and my brother in shorts
With bags of homework to a busy homecoming
After the school bell rang to the crescendo of the temple bell,
The clouds are missing me and I missing the clouds
And we shed tears, the cloud on my land, on my orchard
Of mangos and paddy field, and me on the tissue paper
on an alien land, as memories of a place which the heart calls its own…
The only true home it ever knew,
Like the storm wind rushes in to destroy the calmness
And the orderliness created by time to leave behind……
An emotional turmoil – the emptiness
Created by the distance from all that which is familiar to you.



By: ARSHU

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