Searching For Oranges

Picture Credits: Alice Oehr

I set out in search of an orange having realised that I hadn’t eaten one in years, 

I searched the bazaars of Kabul and they offered me Khawah and Firnee but there were no oranges,

I took a train to Mumbai and on every stop and they offered me chai and Vada Pav but there were no oranges,

I asked in coffee shops in Istanbul and they offered me çay and Baklava but there were no oranges,

I took a train  to far north and asked in tea sellers in Cairo and they offered me Rose tea and Konafa but there were no oranges 

I asked at hotels in Tehran and they offered me Sherbat and Gaz but there were no oranges 

So many offered far grander things than an orange, and compared to all the sweets an orange felt bland and insignificant, 

but no matter what I ate, or where I went, the taste of the orange never left my tongue, my stomach ached and turned,

but eventually I stopped looking for the orange I had once set out for, what I thought  would be everywhere was nowhere. 

Until one day, years later  I walked into my grandfather’s living room and there was nothing but a basket of oranges on the centre table, 

and suddenly it was as if my hunger vanished and an incredible lightness filled  my stomach, 

and for the first time I sat down, there was no train to catch no more bazaars to search through, 

I had found an orange, 

and the taste of it will never leave my tongue.

-SP