Why Do We Leave Our Hometowns?
 |
| AI Generated |
Poetic lines- Entry to blog
Dreams took wings, flew far away,
Leaving roots to quietly stay.
Parents wait with hearts so wide,
For children lost in time’s tide.
A Question That Stays With Me
 |
| AI Generated |
There’s a question that keeps coming back to me again and again—
Why do people leave their hometowns and move to cities or abroad?
Yes, the reasons we usually hear are jobs, a better life, and a better future. But when you peel the layers, there’s more hidden inside… something that touches parents, family, and the roots we often forget.
The Metro Journey
 |
| AI Generated |
Few months back, I was on the Metro from Whitefield to Kengeri. Like always, it was a Saturday ritual—my mother starts from Mysore by bus, and I take the Metro so that by the time she reaches Kengeri, I am there waiting.
That day the train wasn’t crowded. At Satya Sai Hospital stop, one elderly man, maybe in his 60s, walked in and sat beside me.
I usually don’t start conversations in public transport. Everyone carries their own story, and sometimes silence is better. But this time, he started.
“Namaskara, neevu ellige hogthira?”
I smiled and replied in Kannada, “To Kengeri sir, to pick my mother.”
The word mother made his eyes soften. And slowly his own story began.
His Words
 |
| AI Generated |
He told me he was from Mangaluru, here for a post-surgery heart check. When I asked, “Sir, you came alone?” he just gave a half smile and said,
“Yes, I have two children, both abroad. It’s been more than 10 years since they came home.”
Before I could react, he continued.
“See, we all encourage our kids to study abroad. We feel proud, we even push them to go. First few years, there are calls, visits. Then life changes—marriage, kids, career. Slowly calls reduce, visits get delayed. Yearly trip becomes once in five years. By the time they realize, the parents are already old… and waiting.”
He looked straight ahead and said,
“In functions, we act proud. We tell relatives—my son is in US, my daughter is in London. We say he sent this gift, he’s planning to come. But deep inside? We know the truth. They don’t have time.”
The Pain Behind His Smile
 |
| AI Generated |
I asked gently, “Sir, where is madam?”
His face changed. “She passed away during COVID. My children didn’t come. It was just me. After that, I stopped expecting. I had surgery alone, got admitted alone. My brother was around, but even his children are abroad. Same story everywhere.”
Then he sighed, “In my town, more than half the houses are like this. Parents above 50 staying alone, hoping one day their children will come. Houses that once had laughter, noise, chaos… now they are silent. They have land, some income, but not the strength to work. Slowly they sell, slowly villages empty.”
His Last Line to Me
 |
| AI Generated |
By then, we were near MG Road. I told him, “Sir, Kempegowda stop is just four stations away.”
He turned to me, smiled faintly, and said something that has stayed with me till today—
“Parents shed their blood to make us what we are. If children forget them now, it’s nothing but slow suicide—for parents, and also for those children one day. Don’t let them feel abandoned.”
He got down at his stop, walked into the crowd, and disappeared.
What Stayed With Me
 |
| AI Generated |
I sat there, silent. His words echoed louder than the Metro announcements.
By the time I reached Kengeri, my mother was already near NICE Road junction. In another 15 minutes she would be in front of me, smiling, asking if I had eaten. But my heart was not calm.
I kept thinking—
Why do we measure success in salaries and miles, but forget moments?
Why do we call it pride when children settle abroad, but silently carry the emptiness they leave behind?
Why do we forget the same parents who once held our hands, who sacrificed everything just so we could stand tall?
That evening, walking with my mother, holding her hand, I realized—maybe true richness is not where we live, but with whom we live.
Final Thought
AI Generated
One conversation with a stranger shook me. And left me with more questions than answers.
Family is not just one part of life. Family is life itself.
And even today, I can still hear his voice—
“Never let your parents feel abandoned.”
Parents wait through joy and pain.
In chasing skies, don’t lose the ground,
 |
| AI Generated |
This is just my reflection from a conversation. Every story has two sides, but one truth stays the same — parents give everything for us, and all they really seek is our love and happiness.
 |
| AI Generated |
