Some say, nations are just lines that divide. They are nothing but accidents of fate. They break people of one kind into many. They say humanity is the only true reality and all others are just collective nouns that pull people apart. They say that nationalities breed stereotypes and parochialism and that we are all after all inhabitants of the same world.
Some say, a nation is the true identity of a people. It is what gave them life and love. It is what makes them who they are and teaches them all they know. They will fight for their nation no matter what the cost. They love their nation beyond reason and logic. For them, their nation is the holy land - a land to be venerated and revered, and to be protected from the evil eyes of the others. For them, the nation comes before its people and lives are a price you sometimes pay for the sake of your motherland.
In an alien land, I wonder where i stand.
I step out of the house, and i dont feel the same. There is a kinship missing with the place. A dialog I used to have back "home". I feel lost here as if constantly searching for something. For directions, for familiarity, for the sights and smells. My stride lacks the spring that a child has when he sees his mom across the street after school. I walk, wary and cautious, not because i should be afraid but because i feel like a trespasser. Its not that i am berated or ill treated. I am left to my own means here even as freedom acquires a new meaning. But I felt more at ease with all those shackles back "home" because it was where i had always been. I knew the land, the men and women, the birds and beasts. I knew the winds and climes. I knew the bricks and the bats, the hills and the valleys, the streets and the corners. There was a certain kinship with the land and all its people that is difficult to describe in words. There is a flutter in my heart when i see someone from my land. A connection that makes my heart want to reach out to the perfect stranger just because he comes from where I come.
But wasn't my nation just an accident ? An accident of fate, that determined where i was born and brought up ? Wouldn't i feel differently if I were born here and not back "home" ? Why do I feel offended when they point a finger at my country ? Its not that they are always wrong for many a times I have complained too. Its not that I dont see the flaws and the problems that plague us. But its different when you fight with your parents and when a stranger raises his voice at them, isn't it ? Is it the land that I care for or the people ? What is it that ties me to my "nation" ? Like the umbilical cord that nurtures the fetus, there is an invisible bond that tethers me, that gives me my sense of self and that gives me my life.
Yes, it also binds me to my stereotypes and makes my world view a little narrower but then it would be the same anywhere else. Wouldn't it ? I would be just as attached to another piece of land if only the cards of fate had played out differently ?
An accident of fate it is but what a wonderful accident ! It gives me a home to call my own and a place to hold onto. It saves me from being a nomad even as I travel the world because there is a place on my compass that i always look forward to. There is no other place that can truly feel like "home" but home itself.... and maybe that's why they call it a motherland...
Some say, a nation is the true identity of a people. It is what gave them life and love. It is what makes them who they are and teaches them all they know. They will fight for their nation no matter what the cost. They love their nation beyond reason and logic. For them, their nation is the holy land - a land to be venerated and revered, and to be protected from the evil eyes of the others. For them, the nation comes before its people and lives are a price you sometimes pay for the sake of your motherland.
In an alien land, I wonder where i stand.
I step out of the house, and i dont feel the same. There is a kinship missing with the place. A dialog I used to have back "home". I feel lost here as if constantly searching for something. For directions, for familiarity, for the sights and smells. My stride lacks the spring that a child has when he sees his mom across the street after school. I walk, wary and cautious, not because i should be afraid but because i feel like a trespasser. Its not that i am berated or ill treated. I am left to my own means here even as freedom acquires a new meaning. But I felt more at ease with all those shackles back "home" because it was where i had always been. I knew the land, the men and women, the birds and beasts. I knew the winds and climes. I knew the bricks and the bats, the hills and the valleys, the streets and the corners. There was a certain kinship with the land and all its people that is difficult to describe in words. There is a flutter in my heart when i see someone from my land. A connection that makes my heart want to reach out to the perfect stranger just because he comes from where I come.
But wasn't my nation just an accident ? An accident of fate, that determined where i was born and brought up ? Wouldn't i feel differently if I were born here and not back "home" ? Why do I feel offended when they point a finger at my country ? Its not that they are always wrong for many a times I have complained too. Its not that I dont see the flaws and the problems that plague us. But its different when you fight with your parents and when a stranger raises his voice at them, isn't it ? Is it the land that I care for or the people ? What is it that ties me to my "nation" ? Like the umbilical cord that nurtures the fetus, there is an invisible bond that tethers me, that gives me my sense of self and that gives me my life.
Yes, it also binds me to my stereotypes and makes my world view a little narrower but then it would be the same anywhere else. Wouldn't it ? I would be just as attached to another piece of land if only the cards of fate had played out differently ?
An accident of fate it is but what a wonderful accident ! It gives me a home to call my own and a place to hold onto. It saves me from being a nomad even as I travel the world because there is a place on my compass that i always look forward to. There is no other place that can truly feel like "home" but home itself.... and maybe that's why they call it a motherland...
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