Lost in migration

In this world there is no action

That you can take without repercussion

Whatever path you happen to choose

You win some, and some you lose

So when I made a leap across the ocean

A mixed bag I got with immigration

There were many gains, I cannot deny

But some poignant losses darken my sky..

**

The sights, smells and sounds that were so unique

To India, close my throat so I can barely speak-

The much awaited first monsoon shower

Teasing the summer sun with its cooling power

The sensual smell of wet earth, the exhilaration

Of getting wet in the first rain of the season

 

Enjoying steaming tea and watching children float

Through rivulets of rainwater their paper boats..

 

Here it rains often, and I reminisce again

How I have lost the magic of monsoon rain

**

Strolling  through the gardens on summer nights

When the temperature for comfort was just right

Taking in the scent of jasmine, intoxicating-

I keep searching fragrant flowers in hopes of replicating

That strong and sweet odour- but in vain

Added that to my list of lost things again….

**

The palpable feeling of excitement in the air

Before Diwali; enthusiastic people everywhere

The aroma of sweetmeats, the communal celebration

Those fireworks and lights, lighting up the nation-

 

Though Diwali I celebrate with Indians settled here

That collective spirit I miss, it’s simply not there

**

I can go on and on, there are many more

Experiences I have lost, it’s hard to keep score

 

My solution to these losses is to revive

These memories is to spend time in person, live

In India during the seasons that I miss

The trials of travel are worth the feelings of bliss

That engulf me when my lost experiences I gain

If only once in few years; that lessens my pain. 

 

(This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.)