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A word I’ve often used. A place I’ve often travelled between countries.
A centre I’ve visited to keep unwanted sections of society. A four letter word that cost millions of dollars to some.
A question I’ve been asked and began asking because it seems important to be defined. It seems unbelonged if you don’t feel belonged.
But the real question is maybe there isn’t a necessity to feel belonged and it’s the real world around you that creates this necessity. It questions your functionality as a person if you don’t have one.
In the process of trying to look for it or define it – I lost an element of my schizophrenia which ironically was the same place that triggered it. My schizophrenia allowed me to break away from the need of it. Instead in finding my way back to be a part of the outside world clouded it further with illusions of it.
Home is a place a lot of my friends were thrown into. It’s also a place a lot of my friends have lost. It’s also a place that need not be defined because our madness is what redefines it.
When I first ran away from home it brought it’s own world with it: that such a place is what you make of it.
When my schizophrenia made me wander it gave me the streets, the parks,the benches, the night clubs, the stray dogs and cats, the abandoned places, the doors of other people’s homes and offices and soon enough their homes and work places.
But there were times their homes and work places disillusioned me into wanting the same when deep inside I knew it wasn’t my world to be in. I was meant for schizophrenia and what it does to me. Having a home is to put constructions around the very nature of liberated madness I come with.
21 years later after the freedom I gave myself of a home, I’ve learnt that home for a wanderer like me is when I can lose my own. It is when I can let others in mine and it doesn’t matter anymore.
It is when I can feel Her anywhere I am in whichever part of this planet I travel to and She’s always around.
She is everywhere in everything…Her bosom I walk on connects me. Her zephyr allows me to breathe. She is the water in the oceans and seas and run a little bit through me. She kindles life thru fire and takes it away so easily.
She doesn’t have to worry about Her Home because She is Home. She is Nature. She keeps giving because She knows we depend on Her.
She’s always been there. Comforting my nudity with grime. Cleansing my tears with rain. Creating my life thru storms. Clapping thru thunders. Celebrating in between whispers of the night and sometimes just being an unassuming stillness for my perception to rest.
There is nothing mysterious about Her because She just Is.
I wrote this piece the very evening I grounded myself to the very land I was born in. I am visiting this particular ‘home’ after 5 years but reliving the people and place and confronting a very dark past after 21 years – only this time from a very different perspective and learning. From one as that of someone who can look into all of what happened as unconscious manifestations and spirit guides. It will not make sense to others and it not necessary that it should. But this is where I will have to begin rewriting my story…
My given spiritual name is Vajri.