Every night when I go to sleep, her smell haunts me, making me feel lonely and helpless with every passing moment; making my tongue go parched and my heart go still, with my mind totally blank. That smell calls me to experience her soul once again with bright new sets of ideas and ideals, with a new eye that I've got now. The farther I went from her, the closer I became to her.
She is in my soul, she is the part of my every breath, my every heartbeat, my every single thought. Her ideologies are rare, her character is pure, her beauty is sublime, her love is unparalleled, her simplicity is appealing, her name is beautiful, her smell is inexpressible, she sits much above these petty words.
I had so much want to run away from her; and I even managed to do so, but in the process I didn't realize that this running away had its destination fixed only at her. I find myself baffled seeing myself missing her more than any other thing else in my life.
Do you know who's she? I know you know her, perhaps equally well as me, or even more than me. Yes, she is my soil - my India - my soul - my people; the only word that I can call my own without any reconsideration. She is right here with me rather within me pulling me towards her every moment, every single second.
I miss my country - and my country is so special to me just because of the people living there who have made my life out there a one-in-a-million experience. And you know what, you're one of them. Thank you for being a part of my life and influencing it in the most subtle way - by constituting my motherland and making it so special for me.
If you haven't already guessed what should be the title of this post, then here it is - 'Soil in my soul'.
P.S. Soil and soul are nearer to each other in my real life than in the English language.
P.S. The style of this article is inspired from my friend Debanjan.