Water from the icy heart of a river
May taste sweeter than bottled Bisleri’s,
The mountain air caressing the Himalayas
May feel softer than a tepid Savannah breeze,
Red-ribbed strawberries from different regions
May ripen and taste each quite distinctively,
But you still drink, you still breathe, you still eat.
A camel strutting across Saharan sands
May vary with the one from Kalahari,
The sun over the desert soil may beat down
Brighter than over a tropical canopy,
A monastery in Taxila may not
Resemble one that is Chinese,
That’s why tourists flock them all, equally, enthusiastically.
For without the differences that make them unique
The world won’t have anything of much worth to see;
The world won’t have what makes it worthwhile to be
Even us; for you see, it is laid bare in our identities –
That which separates all of me’s from we –
That what makes you so different from me.
And so I lie in an ageless wait and long for the day
When the world would have time to stand and spare
To look at me, at what I am and yet not care
A world where it doesn’t matter who I am
As long as you know that I am me and I can be.
– Akanksha Gupta