Staying away from my home, my city, taught me what homeliness is. Nothing was realised when all these years I roamed around the familiar roads of Ahmedabad, Saw same faces everyday passing a glance or a smile. These one and half year away from that, made me understand how important they were as a part of my life. Never before, I had felt the need to defend my city in midst of strangers. I thought, I have lost my heaven and it was indeed the best place to live. Suddenly I was surrounded by people who had same inclination for their birth place; a constructive regionalism. And today I am one of among those fraternity, who even after spending years in a foreign land still yell for their own city; and I have found a new familiarity and closeness in this strange land. My experience makes me write this poem :-
No Land is bad, no City is good;
Its only the people who never forget their roots,
Its my soil who yells out my name;
All those moments of sadness and fame,
Where I was first loved,
There only will my soul rest....
No Land is bad, no City is good;
Its only the people who never forget their roots............
