Lahore, how I love thee
The sunrise in Lahore, has colours like no other. So what, if those colours are now tainted with innocent blood?
I may not have seen the whole world yet,
But I have seen a lot of it.
Sure, I left my heart in Paris,
Yes I lost my self,
Wandering the sloping streets of San Francisco
True, my mind found solace at the top of Mont Blanc
Yet, my soul will always belong to Lahore
The city that still captivates me, like no other
Maybe I’m biased; maybe it is nostalgia,
But when I am in Lahore, my soul is alive,
The whole city pulsates with unabashed life
The sounds of New York,
The lights of Hollywood,
Even the grandiose of Las Vegas,
Nothing compares to this city of my childhood,
The city where my soul sings,
The air in Lahore,
Smells like a thousand rainbows of my childhood.
If that scent now has traces of gunfire in it?
The sunrise in Lahore,
Has colours like no other,
If those colours are now tainted with innocent blood?
The sound of a dozen Azans at once still leave me spellbound.
Even though I now hear,
Echoing with Allah-u-Akbar,
The wails of mothers who lost their sons
Yet, my soul refuses to let go,
It pulls me back to this city,
Again and again. And again.
This bloodied and broken;
Impossibly majestic city of mine;
You are home to my soul, may you survive and thrive.
For my soul will forever, belong to you.
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