#Travel, Lifestyle

An Ode to Going Back Home

To all my fellow immigrants,

Who left a part of themselves back home,

I see you.

I know the feeling of leaving all the love that is back home and venturing into a foreign land that may or may not accept you.

I know the feeling of yearning,

Yearning for the familiarity that you grew up with.

Longing for the friendly neighbour who lived down the street from you,

The neighbour who would let you pick mangoes from their tree.

Missing the aunty (who was not really your aunty) who lives up the hill,

The aunty who knew all the details about your life and accepted you as their own.

Yearning for your grandmother’s food,

Food that nourished your soul in no other way anything could.

I know that sometimes, you ask yourself if going abroad was worth losing all that for a while.

I mean, we are always told that the grass is greener as soon as you board that plane,

But you learn that the grass has always been green at home.

The earth has always been rich,

Your ancestors’ energy has always been the strongest.

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It felt so good to be back home.

It felt like this is what my body has been telling me to do since I left.

To come back home.

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To all my fellow immigrants,

Take pieces of your home with you.

Pictures, jewelry, recipes, anything.

If you haven’t called your grandparents in a while, just know they miss you, and they love you. So call them.

And lastly,

Try visiting if you can. Go back and remind yourself that you have a place that will always accept you. A place that will always have love for you.

A place that you can always call home.

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