An Englishman in New York?

I'm on my way to the gym. The sun is peeping out sleepily from behind the clouds, debating whether to rise or indulge in those two precious minutes of sleep. In spite of myself, my spirits are lifted. The sun is no longer the enemy, the harbinger of morning, the siren for respectable people to be out of bed. It is just one of us, a co-sufferer, someone with unreasonably early work hours. I give it a metaphorical i know, life sucks pat on the back and move on. Up ahead i see this lady and her daughter standing on one side of the road, probably waiting for the school bus. The lady looks up at the rising sun, closes her eyes, bows her head and folds her hands together in prayer.
It should not come as a shock, but it does. At that instant, her motivations, her feelings, her actions seems so alien to me, that thats exactly what i feel like - an alien.
I suppose at some point in our lives all of us have felt it - the disconnect, the separation, this distance from everyone around us. Which is why even those small, meaningless connections you make with random strangers become all the more important. It is why i love watching Tamil movies in Pune. Being surrounded by all those Tamil speaking people, I feel like i belong. Or the reason why i like Chennai more than i logically should. Which is strange because i dont feel at home with the language itself!

P.S. I wanted to write about how every generation tries to find its own ways to deal with this alienation, to find something to belong to. Be it family and society, or rebellion or a caught in the middle generation that seems wants to belong but but is equally afraid of being bound. To anything. But i couldnt write it without seeming that i was a) being pompous and b) making sweeping generalizations.