When you expectantly peep out of the airplane's window to capture
The first glimpse of your home country after your overseas venture,
When, instead of the patterned roads and lights that you are used to,
You see relatively pattern-less arrangements in your bird's eye view,
You realize you are returning to your Homeland.
When there is a queer mixture of anxiety and excitement
And it requires an effort to hide your tears giving vent,
When some unfamiliar faces speaking familiar languages
Appear to prepare you for your arrival home in stages,
You realize you are returning to where you belong.
When the announcement requests cabin crew to prepare for landing,
And as soon as the plane lands safely, people prefer to remain standing,
When, even before the plane comes to a complete stop,
There is hectic activity and most people begin to hop,
You realize you are returning to your Homeland.
When your first step out of the airplane India-bound
Confirms that you have finally arrived safe and sound,
When, immediately after exit from the airplane ramp,
Everyone starts hurrying to get the Immigration stamp,
You realize you have returned to where you belong.
When there are long, winding, slow-moving queues
With everyone looking for the best queue to choose,
When, after finally getting through the stamping stage,
You start rushing to pick up your checked-in baggage,
You realize you have returned to your Homeland.
When you are compelled to occupy the scant vacant space
Available amongst people trying, their baggage, to trace,
When, after what seems a long "baggage wait",
You finally manage to get your account straight,
You realize you have returned to where you belong.
When you confidently walk through the Green Channel,
Without having to face any of the Customs' "arsenal",
When you know this was the moment you were waiting for
And begin to feel as free as a bird set free for ever,
You realize you have returned to your Homeland.
When your parents' anxious eyes are moved to tear,
As they finally manage to spot their sibling dear,
When you rush towards your people to give them a hug,
And in the process even forget to give your trolley a tug,
You can be sure you have returned to where you belong.
When, on your way back to home, there is unruly traffic all around,
And you start wondering why only in India such a situation is found,
When, you tend to make up for your absence with endless talk
About all the topics under the sun that you wanted to take stock,
You can be sure you have returned to your Homeland.
When even at this unearthly hour your travel-weary brain
Doesn't prefer to relax and does not mind the strain,
When even the jetlag fails miserably to prevent you from
Sharing your experiences with your dad and mom,
You can be sure you have returned to where you belong.
When memories of the recent past are still fresh in your mind's view,
And you need time to adjust even to the familiar realities around you,
When you begin to appreciate the difference between the times past and present,
The irrevocable nature of time and you're wiser from the experience it has lent,
You can be sure you have returned to your Homeland.
When you realize that the attractions of a foreign land, however grand,
Are nothing compared to the homeliness of your own native land,
When you realize that in spite of all the problems here that we face,
Surprisingly, our motherland still never loses its charm and grace,
You can be sure you have returned to where you belong.
