The crowd of strangers
din incessant filling the air
Nothing yet far from familiar
as if I never left from here
The clime tad humid
an invitation to sweat unwelcome
Chaos of plans gone haywire
and of many tongues I can't hear
Yet, I feel home
and blissed out for no reason
A ship returning to harbour,
after a long sojourn between mooring and anchor
a dream lived as if unaware
A little hiccups, a few winks deprived
and some hurdles I could have been well without
Yet, nothing can make this sojourn
to my mother, worth any greater
Far may I go, crossing continents,
searching, finding and going over new horizons
Yet, tethered I will be always
to the bosom of Bharat
A child meandering about the world
for meaning and more
Yet, nothing more is to be sought or found
than what awaits me here