The man with no land!

What is it in humans that build tolerance? Which section of our complicated brain tells us when our resistance is about to break. When do we develop inside us the value of perseverance? I believe we all possess small but significant amounts of each – tolerance, resistance, perseverance.  Where we falter is when and how to use them !!

I open the door to the balcony of my my mind and recall the days working in NYC, suspended many many floors, up in the air of Manhattan. All around are the monstrous concrete sentinels, their windows lit up intermittently, like several ominous eyes of a giant ogre. There is an indescribable hum in the atmosphere. Like a huge piece of machinery breathing. On occasion the siren of a police car in chase, the grating harsh horn of a fire engine thundering by, or the regular uninterrupted signal from a rushing ambulance. Then the hum again. A lot quieter, but announcing its presence. Subtle, softer, continuous.

It is the sound of life. The hum. There, its gentle drone almost inaudible. Much like our own breath. We know its there. But we seldom hear it. The sirens, the attention diverting occurrences in our lives. And as you look over the edge of the parapet, the streaming millions; men, women, traffic, objects moving rapidly, sometimes inconsistently through a sea of lanes and streets like tributaries of our blood vessels.

A living organism. But abstract.

So much happens here in this constricted space. This land mass. This island. Or peninsular almost; with so many attachments to the mainland in the form of bridges and tunnels.
Diverse inhabitants. Diverse cultures. Diverse languages. But all here to make a living. To survive, to achieve, to grow, to expand, to multiply.

I close the door of my memories and return to the confines of my bedroom. The sound almost shuts off. It is quieter now. Not so disturbing. Not so pertinent. Like entering the brain. If at all one could. And you think.
What goes on in this vastness ? Humans all, but operating on different levels. Some young, some old, some new, some finding their feet, some experienced, some learning, some giving, some taking, some conducting, some just being.

All part of Manhattan, New York. All contributing to the vast energy that constitutes this one region in the land mass of the country called America.

I have lived in this metropolis in for 5 years. Walked the streets, bought my own grocery, parked the car in a garage and stepped out to my place of residence. Seen lots of things like the unforgettable 9/11/2001 when the world went to a stop. Felt the anger of the people around you believing that we muslim are their enemy. And realized the importance of your own homeland. It is wretched when you are alone in foreign surroundings and have an emergency. At that point you realize that so much time has passed and you become a man with no land. Acceptance of a migrated person is very difficult for the people of the country you lived.

No one knows you. No one cares. And you do not know what or where to go. Yes the world is exciting and wondrous, but there is no place like home.

Now my home is another beautiful and different metropolitan city, London. But on that in other occasion...

Love as ever,

DiL