nowhere to go

I don't think I know my India any more
And that hurts

there are things which came into being after I left,
and now it takes a while for me to make sense of things...
And that hurts

It's like something you owned, and it owned you.
something you identified yourself with.
now it seems to be moving on, leaving you behind.
And that hurts

with time, they say, things are forgotten.
But I am not a thing!
When with every morning light, I open 'The Hindu' and call home
Home is still somewhere in India, but I seem to be losing my place
And that hurts.

Over the past years, as I came far away,
got stuck in the puzzles of life, struggle everyday,
In the struggle to grow with time, both of us seem to be too busy to catch up
And that hurts.

New roads have come about. New cell phone companies.
Nokia is no longer the leader, and new ways to make money
I feel like a stranger, looking at a foreign land... once my home.
I don't seem to belong to anywhere anymore.
And that hurts.

Discussing Rahul Gandhi and Mayawati over dinner on weekends
and playing Antakshari every 'potluck',
going to pooja every 'Thanksgiving',
it seems we are somewhere stuck
By the time we force our way out,
there would be nowhere to go
And that hurts.