Part 4
This home called China
The train to Shuyang.
Madness again.
To catch a running train. That phrase is made for China!
Being subject
to the stares of all the people again. But
this time, the tiredness of the days seeps in, and finally,
I acknowledge the rush of adrenaline is spent. China numbs
you for a while, but once its effect is gone, sharp reality
begins to assert itself.
My mind takes
on different visages even as the landscape changes from
the sprawl of urban Beijing to sleeping, green and golden
fields. Little huts so reminiscent of India, bring with
it fresh pangs of home. Home. So near. Just a walk across
the border.
And I start
thinking about these lines drawn across earth, these borders,
so many lines all hoping to claim a piece of land as their
own. But there are more powerful lines than these. The thoughts
that crisscross in eternal patterns across the walls of
the mind, these are the lines, which bring me back home.
Flying me through those boundaries, mocking those restrictions.
I am home. But home is also where you find yourself.
And I have
begun that personal journey in this home called China.
I am home.
Again.
