Your treasures, though not mine,
Make me rich for you;
For me: I become the richest
By my thought.

 

You may have met your punctual miracle
Everywhere!
I meet mine through you:
You passing me my dues.

 

Several of heaven’s people,
I know, are all the same –
Be they in your pervading kingdom,
Or dwelling in my land.

 

Even the butterfly in your park
Drops a smile on my homesick eye –
It flies with my memories:
In the same old-fashioned way.

 

On desertly skies,
When the staunch chant develops
In your opulent minarets –
I do not feel an outcaste in ranks,
Or broken in faith.

 

Alike our likeness,
I also believe in One God –
God of all creations!
My humble heart craves
for His open grace –
the same way as you pray.

 

1995

                          

Geeta Chhabra

 

From the book: An Indian Ode To The Emirates by Geeta Chhabra