"Tourist "

In a city once called home ,

Now as a tourist I roam ,

Whispers my memories ,echoes of time

Streets and shops once familiar

Now I see anew

Each corner ,each curve

As once a strange feeling

The house on the side of a canal,

Where laughter danced

Now stands in silence ,feeling distanced.

The mango trees embrace where my dreams I shared ,

Leaves had rustled that day as they cared,

Down the paved paths ,where dreams took flight

Footsteps now wander in the path full of light.

The scent of my dream hangs in the air

The Sweet symphony of hope and Joy ,

The markets hustle a vibrant array

The familiar color and voices fades away

The Local tea-shops aroma and the oil

A sip of past ,a bite of today’s future.

Faces familiar now as strangers pass by,

A cosmic connection with a wishful sigh,

The canals ,lakes and rivers flow,

As the mighty nature bows.

Yet Memories drift ,forever unnamed

In a place once home

Where Heart used to roam,

I am just a visitor ,a tourist all alone ,

But in every shadow ,in every streets bend

Lies a piece of soul ,a timeless blend.

For home is more than a mark on the map,
It lives in the echoes where old memories lap.
So I’ll walk these streets in quiet grace,
To find once more that long-lost place —
The gentle truth of who I am