Half of me

I long for India
Half of me is always aching
For languages unlearned
For scents that awaken
The three year old in me
For the comical sound of the rickshaws’ horns
For my cousins’ faces
For my uncle’s crooked smile
For my aunt’s heartfelt chatter
For one last story from my grandmother…
Half of me is always aching
I long for India

Leah R. Chatterjee

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