Medina Of Unrealised Dreams And Ambitions

Visiting places where you have spent your entire childhood, can be quite dilemmatic, I have found.

Every step that I draw, plunges me into deeper chasms of nostalgia. You find your entire life flashing in front of you on fast-forward, with distinct nuances of joy and gloom.

I left this medina as a teenager.

I have returned as an adult; or the adult as defined by society. Whether I feel any older on the inside, I really do not know.

I have come back with a different agenda. I have come back treading on a somewhat different path. Yes, I am making this journey on my own once again, but this time, the stakes are a lot higher. Sort of like Captain Jack Sparrow returning for one final showdown. The kind you do not expect to come out of alive.

But, hang on a minute...

I have not ventured into foreign lands this time around; I have come back home. So, in theory, I should actually be feeling content and not wary of my surroundings.

Yet, I am exasperated. Yet, I am uncomfortable.

Familiar faces are welcoming me. Strangers are greeting me. Yet, there is a sense of isolation. Almost as if I am in a league of my own. Where I must eventually engage in combat alone. Without accomplices or aides.

And somehow I still need to hold my ground whenever not too distant memories tend to carry me far away in this frenetic tide, whilst simultaneously not losing sight of the ultimate goal.

I need to stay focussed. I need to believe.

And, of course, I need to be braver.

I am home, guys. But there is still plenty of work to be done...

One baby step at a time, then?


  1. You have a great approach, you can do it. :)

  2. Thank you Nabblogger for the dose of encouragement. =) Where is you? I miss giving you my coursework to read. Sigh.

  3. "I have returned as an adult; or the adult as defined by society. Whether I feel any older on the inside, I really don't know."

    I feel the opposite about myself. A teenager defined by the society and an adult on the inside. But that's just me. *waves hand around casually*

    Lots of luck. :)

  4. I get what you mean. Sometimes I feel so old, too. My cousin looks round at me and goes, "You sound like a forty year old."

    Thanks. =)

  5. sense of isolation + sense of nostalgia + sense of premonition + hope + a lonely (flawed?) hero = a great read ;)

    good luck with it!

  6. Haha. Thanks, man! =) Good luck to you too!