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America makes me want it all.
What a thing to grapple with: Fierce independence with a side of unceasing homesickness.
The chase for unfamiliar adventure, and the longing of a warm cocoon of comfort.
Being, witnessing, expanding. All while craving, yearning and longing.
UGH. What is even mine? Is there actually a hard line that will appear with time?
And what am I trying to be? Do I possess her or does she possess me?
Amidst all my differences will I find a place? Token of variety or familiar grace.
When will I pick a side and stop seeking both: solace & unknown space.

And my very wise friend reminded me,
That as long as there are flowers and trees, and honey bees.
And my cheeks feel the trade winds from the Indian seas
This land is mine. Just like India will always be.

// Inspiration: Art by Ruchika Shah