Home....

Waking up to the Suprabatham, and sunshine on my face,
The crinkling of a freshly printed The Hindu
And the milkman going 'Amma! Paal'!
Sipping hot filter coffee, at my own leisurely pace.

A warm bath with a bucket and a jug,
Four hot idlies for breakfast,
And some hot fresh tea,
Served in my favorite mug.

Salaams to my folks, and I'm on my way,
A hop on the bike, and a short ride later,
Stop at the corner store,
For the first cig of the day.

The pleasure of the wind on my face
A cycle here, an old lady there,
A gap between that bus and the car
Will I make it there? This challenge I must take.

A rush of blood, shift to 3rd gear,
A twist here, a wiggle there,
Mindful, and watchful, and a little bit of fear,
A subtle shift in body weight, and I'm almost there.

The get togethers at home for Eid,
With the whole family around.
The smell of fresh Jasmine,
New clothes, Biryani, and guests abound.

An evening ride to the Marina Beach,
Sitting by the water, I can almost reach.
The sight and sound of the waves,
Soothing, relaxing, in every possible way.

The air is thick with nostlagia,
The little pleasures of home, that I miss..
But truth be told,
Fortunate, I am,
To have experienced this bliss.