Bombay dreams in sepia tones,
Konkan whispers through cracked phones.
Kadak chai, now a bittersweet sip,
Pani puri's ghost on a longing lip.
Local's rhythm, a distant lullaby,
Once scorned, now draws a wistful sigh.
Mumbai's chaos, a siren's song,
Calling me where I don't belong.
Reality fades, leaving only the shine,
Of a home that was never so divine.
Distance softens the rough and the raw,
Homesickness blinds what I once saw.
Yet I find myself oddly bereft,
Missing the grit of the life I left.
In comfort, my drive seems to wane,
The daily grind had its own refrain.
But am I missing Mumbai's embrace,
Or the self I was in that place?
Longing for Konkan's golden shore,
Or the purpose those hardships bore?
Perhaps what I seek isn't there,
But here, in the challenges I fear.
To find myself in this new land,
And build a home with my own hand.
Bangalore hums with youthful zest.
Yet in its heart, I'm just a guest.
Belonging neither here nor to my past.
Mumbai fades, Bangalore's unclear,
'Home' becomes a concept I fear.
Caught between, not here nor there,
A drifting soul without an anchor.
What makes a place truly one's own?
Is it where we are, or where we've grown?
In limbo between familiar and new,
I search for home - elusive, yet true.
Somewhere I belong.