An evocative poem by Poonam, where physical pain transcends into the agonising pain of a refugee, exclusively for Different Truths.
During childhood, On one of the vacations To my paternal village My wrist bone got dislocated. My grandfather took me To a local wrestler Who was a popular bone-setter The wrestler caressed my wrist Asked me to close my eyes Then pulled my hand With a sudden powerful jerk And announced My alignment was done. I screamed, yelled, and cried His assistant helped me Gulp down a pain killer tablet On my wrist, a freshly ground paste was applied... And covered with a leaf After few applications I got complete relief It was an internal displacement I was doing fine... Yet years later During monsoons and winters The pain in my wrist would arise The pain often left me wondering The plight of war-torn refugees. Who have been dislocated from their roots, Physically, psychologically, emotionally. Would life ever be normal for them? Even if they are well placed. Won’t the monsoon downpour Bring back the memories? Won’t the harsh winters, Remind them the warmth of lost relationships Won’t the reminiscence of times bygone Enhance the pain of leaving their cherished moments behind...
Visual by Different Truths
Poonam Chawla Sood is a bilingual Indian author and translator known for her published work in various journals and anthologies across the globe. She is the founder chairperson of Gulzar Sahitya Samiti (established 1998). She has published two poetry collections in Hindi, one poetry collection in
English and two translations. She has received many national awards. She is regularly broadcast on All India Radio, Ayodhya. Two of her books are in the process of publication.





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Extremely touched by this sentimental poem.
Kudos Poonam Sood ji.
Speechless .
Salaam 🙏🙏🙏