Emanations of the Philosophy of Life Instinct
Read the poem aloud, dear reader, and you’ll find a rhythm and enjoy it more than reading it silently.
Where Does It Feel Like Home?
My eyes open in pretty Interlaken at dawn
The hotel’s been lovely, and two days gone
It’s beautiful like many places we roam
But why does none of them feel like home?
Awaking at home is somehow different
There’s a relaxed ease and contentment
Like belonging and connecting at birth
Being home is like hugging the earth.
It made me wonder where’s home for me
Has it been a cantonment, town or city
Would I say Bangalore, Pune, or Sydney
Locations of my birth, growth, maturity.
I may intuit the answer from the heart
But I must also satisfy my thinking part
For it’s undeniably something to share
What makes a spot home somewhere?
Is it just a matter of time? Is that enough?
First-generation, second, third, how long
Is it language, food, religion, majority
Or pull of motherland and genetic locality.
Is home acceptance of a loved one or place
A new beginning we turn to embrace
Taking its goodness and flaws without fuss
and hoping it will equally cherish us?
It made me think of the plight of refugees
Conflicted feelings of persecuted minorities
To be home, I have the unregarded choice
If everyone were to have it, I would rejoice.
Tell someone or gently make them feel
You are one of us and belong, so kneel
This land is yours to hug and kiss
Rest your bones here in eternal bliss.
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