Breathes there the man!!

I recently saw one of my friend who is coming back from US starting a countdown clock in her orkut status- like 10 days left/ 9 days left to return to india/home.
It reminded me that immortal poem by that great Sir Walter Scott:-

Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored , and unsung.

how true...when you go away from the place you love and was brought up in- and when you return-- the feeling is immense. Each time- when i return home- Durgapur- i feel it....or when i go away- i feel like that brother in flaherty's story- ' living in exile'.. when i return from my countless trips- i feel the same-- breathes there the man with soul so dead... the ahaa moments of life.