Stranger in a strange land.

I‘m not quite sure why I’m writing this today after sooo long. I guess I’d rather now than never. I’m at home and at the same time, twice removed from it. I live in Dallas and call it my home, but the question of what truly is home is always left unanswered. Can I be at two places at one time? My body lives here, but my soul is restless to find its place.
I was born and raised in Bangalore and lived a good part of my life there and always look forward to “going home.” “Home” always conjures the image of a safe haven, bringing out feelings similar to what the womb must have felt like — warm, secure, cared for, a sense of belonging to something greater than oneself. But the minute I am there I am struck by the feeling of being homeless. The brick and mortar buildings, the fixtures and furniture remain unchanged, but the spirit within is lacking. Maybe it’s not one place, maybe it’s the moment that counts. It has more to do with a feeling than a place I suppose.

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One thought on “Stranger in a strange land.

  1. i guess this is the same way a lot of people feel…especially girls/women who go to a totally new/different place after marriage away from parents, siblings & friends…very few people can really express these feelings in words…

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