I know no paradise
As no one has ever seen
except the mystical image of mere imagination.
So the place where I belong
I must call it paradise.
The land of my forefathers and
my motherland.
When I begin to think to write something about the place,
I am not afraid of falling short of words
but perchance I know all blank pages will be filled and ink would dry.
such is the scenic beauty of my native land.
Such is the love and respect that I bow down to touch the feet of my motherland every time I reach there.
Ever since I played around the trees
as a kid,
every time I laid down on the grass
Looking up in the sky and looking around the green mountains and snowcapped great Himalayan range to the north.
I happened to dream.
seen as the white guardian and metaphor of my dreams.
I get stuck in awe of the beautiful place and thank God for the kinship with the flora and fauna and the mountains.
So every dream that I dreamt of
Every dream that I have somehow connected to my native land.
Provides spiritual light and solace to my heart.
For the place I belong teaches me dreaming and teaches me the way of life ever.
That feeling cold winterchill running by my cheeks and image of rain water drops on green grass and tree leaves.
reminds me the beauty of life
and gives me that message to live a life worth a thousand lives.
The chirping of the birds and the sound of waterfalls and the blowing wind to even the sound of the quite night.
provides the soothing music to my soul to be clean to be pure.
The place where I belong is my beautiful motherland.
The countryside and beautiful people and their innocent smile of kids to old people.
I feel every bit of it alive inside my heart.
Wherever I am and wherever I will ever be
I will not forget the fragrance of the soil of my motherland and when my time is up I wish to be mingled in the same soil of my motherland.
Such love and such respect I have and the people have for their motherland.
Love your soil and your native place where you belong.
