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by Rahul (writer), Manama, September 13, 2013

I miss my land and the smell of the breeze that pats her all day long.

I love to travel, meet people, see new places and fill myself with the freshness and love of Mother Nature. Though how far I go and how wonderful I feel there is always an ach inside me, a pull that disturbs me in my travels, the longing for something that I left behind, my home. Now I am really far from there, it’s not a pleasure trip but one to get a steady foot in life and so I reached the land of the Delmon civilization a year back. Hot and humid days in this sandy land make me wish often that I shouldn't have left home. How can a mild hearted tropical creature like me from the wet green lands of Kerala survive in this dusty island of palm trees. It is the memories at home that fuel me to withstand the blazing sun above and the boiling sand underneath.

Radiating calmness both in body and soul like an elderly abbot the vast sea surrounds me here, calm Sea and bright mornings were not something that I was used to. I was born in a village covered with plenty of coconut tree umbrellas, muddy fields and the sea not far either. Unlike that I see in Bahrain the water there has the mind of a teenager, arrogant yet full of life. It smashes hard on the rocks again and again trying to get freed from the man built boundaries and thus adding a hint of adventure to whomever care to stare.

I miss my land and the smell of the breeze that pats her all day long. The sense of smell is a wonderful sensation that can take you to realm of nostalgia. All you have to do is close your eyes and let it into your lungs through your nose; it pokes the brain and drags out the memories that are buried deep within. It’s often the good ones that are awaked in me, when I smell the air as few drops of water wets the thirsty sand; it take me to my childhood memory were I rest in the coconut tree shades all exhausted, praying at the dark clouds floating far away to sink the summer sun in their depths. Early morning sun heats the air and gives a unique fragrance, which reminds me of my mother’s face waking me up from my bed. It’s the smell that takes me back to my home and brings a smile to my face even when my eyes say I am far away.



About the Writer

Rahul is a writer for BrooWaha. For more information, visit the writer's website.
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2 comments on Home

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By Credo on September 13, 2013 at 09:27 pm

Tantalizing articulation, exhibiting pleasant interesting metaphors. As I read through the lines of this article, it felt like a poem of mystic ambiance, a jewel had lighted upon my mind like the sun breaking the dawn.Excellent script...:)Credo

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By JennyT on September 14, 2013 at 04:54 am

Poetical and tranquil, your offering of your home Rahul, so much imagery - beautiful

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