My friend Pradita Kapahi who blogs at The Pradita Chronicles mentioned me on Twitter on a discussion on what makes a place home. The discussion and interpretation which followed with her tribe triggered my creative juice on the idea and feeling of this destination called Home. Today, FB notified me of Friendversary wih Pradita and dedicating this poem to the lady and her tribe. You can follow her on Twitter here.
Home is a feeling,
Chime of wind brush stroking the cheek,
lullaby of a child marveling in innocence,
birds’ hymn,
mother’s song and her affectionate palm smearing my temple,
home is an emotion, not a destination,
morning sun flitting past the Arabian Sea,
rainbow lending charm to boulders and glittering in the room,
home is the heart longing for a place left behind,
crevices and wedge,
to rub with undiluted affection,
home is memory,
friends are family,
monsoon splash wiping tears,
local trains,
skyscrapers nurturing aspirations and dreams in the city,
I once dreamed to own and conquer,
home is the place,
I sat during lonely nights on the parapet listening to old songs,
sensitive heart given free ride,
home is imagination,
unbridled joy,
home is maximum city lost in translation,
home is not one place but scattered emotions,
but my vagabond heart wandering aimlessly,
home is the soul, nerves and flesh,
Love
V
