It is an aarti, sung at the end of most prayer rituals in Sindhi households. My grief was expressed in the poetry circle as I sang an old Sindhi prayer that I first heard as a child from my grandmother. My maasi’s daughter and her son, and their spouses, took care of the last rites.

Due to COVID restrictions, the hospitals were no longer accepting cadavers. The strong independent woman she was, she had made plans for her mortal remains to be donated to the local hospital for the cause of science. As an only child, it was especially hard to not be near her as she bid farewell to this life. In July 2020, I suffered a personal tragedy, as my mother passed away in India. Whoops! There was an error and we couldn't process your subscription. Thanks to the patient listening and open minds, we have grown closer and our personal experiences are also shared through the poems we read. We have read poems to process the major public tragedies in these unusual times, be it the pandemic, the murder of George Floyd and protests in its aftermath, California’s largest wildfires with darkness at noon over San Francisco and ash raining down from the skies, India’s major floods and the largest migration of daily workers who walked from all major Indian cities to their villages, the very divisive presidential election with the prolonged wait for the results, to the history-making Biden-Harris team winning the White House from Trump, and beyond.

We read poems in different languages, with impromptu translations, to find shelter in poems. It has proven to be a sanctuary for us regulars. Poetry As Sanctuary – A column where we explore poetry as a means of expression for voices of the South Asian Diaspora.įor five years now, I have hosted monthly poetry readings in my living room, which, starting in March 2020, with the onset of the pandemic, transitioned to weekly online meetings by popular request.

INALIENABLE: REFLECTIONS ON INDEPENDENCE & BELONGING.

Voices Column: Desi Roots, Global Wings.

Poetry sindhi