2045 AD. A dream comes true as I was waiting for my turn to get down from the Skybus. I saw around me the people with whom I have traveled along with from my place. They looked all different-their dressings, their discussions, the dialect they spoke, and the things they were carrying. Forty years back and now, the whole world looked different. I could not recognize anyone standing along with me. At sixty five, comparing myself with those standing near me, could notice that they all are living a healthy life style, compared to me, myself a pale shadow of my youthfulness now.
The discussion they were having all revolved around their nation’s vibrant economy, which is bullish, the laurels through bigger achievements in various fields like industrial growth, agricultural production, sports, arts & literature, healthy and positive lives lived by them, with a government by them, for them, giving good governance. They were proud of their nation’s achievement- an achievement without invading any other nation, an achievement with piousness for the betterment of their nation and the world, promoting peace.
These people all stayed in my motherland to sweat & toil, when I moved away for better prospects and wealthy lifestyle. They survived and have achieved in my own motherland against all odds, when I set my family in an alien land. Though I did achieve much in my career, lived a healthy and wealthy lifestyle, it took after forty years for me to feel that I am missing something. I decided to search for what I am missing in my life. And, the search brought me here back to my motherland, my place. Now, am here standing along with my own people in this skybus. Forty years back, we used to wait for the 8’0 clock bus to reach my Village. Today, every 15 minutes, there is a skybus flying from the city to my village. A journey that used to take 2 hours is now taking just 15 minutes. Indians in India have done it. I feel proud but unable to take privilege and feel the pride since something is missing.
The door has opened. And, I stepped out of the skybus, hurried outside the station, into my village along with my people.
As soon as I stepped out, I knew I have found the missing thing in my life. I felt the breeze- the air with which I grew up forty years back. I ran inside the agricultural field nearby, and bent down to grab a handful of them-and brought it near my face-and felt it with my skin. I knew have got what I was missing in my life. Tears trickled down my face. I am now with my Soil.
(When I wrote this as a small piece of story, I was traveling somewhere into the hinterland of Andhra Pradesh in June 2008 along with a fellow Indian, who had come back from the US on a short trip, from Philadelphia. I understood that he was here to see his Mother and is about to return back to the US in a week's time. We had discussions on wide range of topics, speaking about the differences between both the nations-and as we were crossing Villages, i got inspired to write this Story of a Man, who had left for the West, after Forty Years, return back to his homeland, with all achievements, but, realizing how much he missed his Soil)
The discussion they were having all revolved around their nation’s vibrant economy, which is bullish, the laurels through bigger achievements in various fields like industrial growth, agricultural production, sports, arts & literature, healthy and positive lives lived by them, with a government by them, for them, giving good governance. They were proud of their nation’s achievement- an achievement without invading any other nation, an achievement with piousness for the betterment of their nation and the world, promoting peace.
These people all stayed in my motherland to sweat & toil, when I moved away for better prospects and wealthy lifestyle. They survived and have achieved in my own motherland against all odds, when I set my family in an alien land. Though I did achieve much in my career, lived a healthy and wealthy lifestyle, it took after forty years for me to feel that I am missing something. I decided to search for what I am missing in my life. And, the search brought me here back to my motherland, my place. Now, am here standing along with my own people in this skybus. Forty years back, we used to wait for the 8’0 clock bus to reach my Village. Today, every 15 minutes, there is a skybus flying from the city to my village. A journey that used to take 2 hours is now taking just 15 minutes. Indians in India have done it. I feel proud but unable to take privilege and feel the pride since something is missing.
The door has opened. And, I stepped out of the skybus, hurried outside the station, into my village along with my people.
As soon as I stepped out, I knew I have found the missing thing in my life. I felt the breeze- the air with which I grew up forty years back. I ran inside the agricultural field nearby, and bent down to grab a handful of them-and brought it near my face-and felt it with my skin. I knew have got what I was missing in my life. Tears trickled down my face. I am now with my Soil.(When I wrote this as a small piece of story, I was traveling somewhere into the hinterland of Andhra Pradesh in June 2008 along with a fellow Indian, who had come back from the US on a short trip, from Philadelphia. I understood that he was here to see his Mother and is about to return back to the US in a week's time. We had discussions on wide range of topics, speaking about the differences between both the nations-and as we were crossing Villages, i got inspired to write this Story of a Man, who had left for the West, after Forty Years, return back to his homeland, with all achievements, but, realizing how much he missed his Soil)
