I am a wanderer in a foreign land,
I don't seek land for roots, for all of mine are buried within me
I am a wanderer in a foreign land,
I yearn for what was left behind and for what is yet to come
I am a wanderer in a foreign land,
An alien amongst friends and a friend to strangers aplenty
I am a wanderer in a foreign land,
With no definite form or color, nor name or home
And yet on these waves of ambiguity,
I shall define my identity.
It is easy to lose oneself when swimming in the meandering cultures of a foreign land. In the turmoil of clashing cultures and identities, an inward glance confirms, once too often that the being within has fled, leaving behind a warm and empty imprint of an individual that may no longer be.
You will realize, that it has been swallowed whole into a world flooded with undecipherable codes; strange symbols and signs that it cant read. From the cacophony of words that splutters around it to the homogenous movement of multiple limbs, marching forward in a timeless race; from the seething whispers of alienation and strangeness to the bellows of friendly cheer echoing against hollow bonds; all of these and more distorts its perception of the world and self.
With every turn in its course, the distance between the self and the wanderer multiplies, and consequently, so does the distance between the wanderer and the inhabitants of this strange world, for they too are wanderers in my world. Somewhere within the plethora of differences, contradictions and conflicts, my identity is weaving itself back; wandering and settling, accommodating and rejecting, learning and growing. Soon, I will seek for my "self" and rediscover a me that never was before, and for the sake of my sanity, I will embrace it, knowing all too well, that in time it will be lost again. But to "know thyself" is a necessity and I shall forever live as a wanderer in an alien land chasing this fleeting shadow till the sun sets on me.
I don't seek land for roots, for all of mine are buried within me
I am a wanderer in a foreign land,
I yearn for what was left behind and for what is yet to come
I am a wanderer in a foreign land,
An alien amongst friends and a friend to strangers aplenty
I am a wanderer in a foreign land,
With no definite form or color, nor name or home
And yet on these waves of ambiguity,
I shall define my identity.
It is easy to lose oneself when swimming in the meandering cultures of a foreign land. In the turmoil of clashing cultures and identities, an inward glance confirms, once too often that the being within has fled, leaving behind a warm and empty imprint of an individual that may no longer be.
You will realize, that it has been swallowed whole into a world flooded with undecipherable codes; strange symbols and signs that it cant read. From the cacophony of words that splutters around it to the homogenous movement of multiple limbs, marching forward in a timeless race; from the seething whispers of alienation and strangeness to the bellows of friendly cheer echoing against hollow bonds; all of these and more distorts its perception of the world and self.
With every turn in its course, the distance between the self and the wanderer multiplies, and consequently, so does the distance between the wanderer and the inhabitants of this strange world, for they too are wanderers in my world. Somewhere within the plethora of differences, contradictions and conflicts, my identity is weaving itself back; wandering and settling, accommodating and rejecting, learning and growing. Soon, I will seek for my "self" and rediscover a me that never was before, and for the sake of my sanity, I will embrace it, knowing all too well, that in time it will be lost again. But to "know thyself" is a necessity and I shall forever live as a wanderer in an alien land chasing this fleeting shadow till the sun sets on me.
