As the sun's rays filtered through the curtains and landed on my face, my eyes flickered and I woke up into another morning. I was feeling blue. Again. Well, I have been feeling blue for some time now, rather some days, some months. I wake up every morning in the United States of Depression. And Loneliness.
I am more out of it than ever. I sit on my bed, munching into a Godiva goodie and watching the street outside. It's so clan, neat & tidy and the wind that just blew into my face, smells so good...but then I think am I paying too high a price?
How many times now have I contemplated going back home to India? And each time I revert that thought thinking - later, maybe later.
How many times had the lure of home cooked food beckoned me from the sidewalks of NYC?
Will I ever stop feeling like a Martian on the moon in this country?
Or will I wake up one morning to find myself an overdressed, overcoated old man, tottering about Jackson Heights in slightly worn out gloves, prolonging my choice of desi food at Khan Baba Restaurant, telling the security guy who helped me get into the cab that any day now, when my social security check came in, when the weather turned, when I found a home for my
li'l lab....I was gonna go home to India?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment