From the Staffroom
From the Staffroom

From the Staffroom

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Impossible to Possible

Impossible was not an option.
To make it possible was the only ticket
To freedom from the marred memories of my life,
Lived in abundance in the Biqa valley,
Sustained by the Orontes and the Litani,
The boat slithers through these rivers today
Ushering me away from the memories of gunshots,
My mother’s startled cry and crimsoned forehead
My siblings scurrying away like rats
My family decimated by the proxy war
Embroiled in the rift between the so-called powerful nations
But why at the cost of my family and me?
Will fate be my Medea and make me victorious like Jason?
As I reminisce about my future on the shores of Munich.
Will I be as alien as I was in Lebanon
Or will I find a safe haven in the lap of my new abode?
Will an angel help me start life anew?
Will my eschewed dreams find a fertile soil to flourish
Without racial prejudice and colour?
May this impossible dream be my manna
And unite me with my being, making my future, possible.

  • Divya Rajgarhia

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