The Colour Green

Bangladesh, Sylhet, Kuru Gao is its name
Or Nanny’s Bari (village) as we all grew to claim
That’s where my mind heads at the mention of green
A place of fond memories, cacophony, serene

You knew you’d left the city as the boredom ebbed away
The sight of lush rice paddies, the odd bull chewing hay
Then the narrow man-made road would come to an end
We’d jump out the van, walk the path nature intends

Screaming young cousins, barefoot and running swift
Would catch up to us laughing, our luggage they’d lift
In the distance she’d be waiting, Nanny in a white saree
Her heart so full of joy, in plain sight, roaming free

Slipping on monsoon mud beneath towering trees
As we raced to a murky green pool, amidst the warm breeze
With snakes and stories of ‘dhewla’ creatures within
I sat watching on bamboo steps, where crabs pinched my skin

Nanny’s late afternoon snacks, were always perfectly timed
We’d be gathered outside, to watch trees being climbed
Coconuts would soon drop by our darting little feet
Pomelo salad, mangoes, peanuts – better than sweets

Many years have now passed since my Nanny was there
To visit the gao without youth, my heart wouldn’t bear
So instead I delve in and search beyond the smokescreen
And I’m back in Nanny’s Bari at the mention of ‘green’

© Rabia Bashir 3rd February 2014 All Rights Reserved