The land of my ancestors.

This is the land of my ancestors.

This is the land nourished their life.

This is the land I was born.

This is the land I crawled as a baby.

I was created from this soil,

underneath my feet.

This soil nourishes me.

This air, the breath of my ancestors

Is my breath too.

The river that flows through our village

Quenched the thirst of our ancestors,

And quenches mine too.

The green trees are my ancestors.

Planted on their graves,

And nourished by their body. 

I feel the presence of them,

even centuries after they are gone.

When I want a hug, I hug a tree.

When I want to share a secret,

I talk to a tree in a low voice.

When I'm dead I shall be buried in my land,

In the land of my ancestors and descendants. 

My body shall fertilise my land.

I shall grow into a lush, green tree.

I shall wait for the hugs from little ones,

And little secrets in hushed voices.

PS- This piece of writing is penned in support of the Covid-19 victims who were cremated forcefully and their grieving kin and kith.