I might be like any other expatriate, desirous of their homeland
upon my country’s soil fervently wishing to stand
I can’t help feeling profusely foreigner
in this highly foreign land
I’d give anything to go back, say even be a mariner
for there’s an ocean to cross before familiar sand.
An ocean with dear motherland’s name
greets me all the way here with tantalizing lure
tiring me of nostalgia’s seemingly endless game
reminding the distance between the shores is galore!
Everything here seems just too alien and foreign
the air seems foreign punctuated by exotic birds
In this land I still feel as if lost in some warren
and the foreign language – I’m at a loss for words!
I feel estranged and disoriented, struck with nostalgia
though I might not be such a patriot any more
The awaited journey to India from Tanzania
to reach familiar ground of lakhs and crore.
Ah the welcoming scenes of my homeland
always so enticing and inviting
It might seem surprising that for me she’s a dreamland
but a desire to go back, since ages I’ve been fighting.
I’m home-sick, waiting so long to be back home
there’s no place like home-sweet-home
Here I feel I’ve lost my tracks
like a homeless wanderer do I roam.
As here I feel no less like a Gulliver on his travels
yet to rehabilitate from homesickness might take a lifetime
For now, I can merely sing of motherland’s marvels
and wait soberly for fate and destiny’s chime.
But an underlying truth here: I feel alienated everywhere
as if I hailed from No-man’s-land
They think I neither blend with the Indian or the african
but can they respect my very individual brand?
Leave a Reply