Home is where the heart is?

I remember a time about 2-3 years ago when I was terribly homesick for Bombay. That was when I had just moved to Delhi and hated it. But, today, Delhi (Gurgaon actually) has become home. I recall a piece of advice from my dad – “Don’t hate this place so much, it’s where we are, where you family is. In so many ways it will always be home for you. It is where you will get married, this home will have memories, and this city will make see you through important phases – because we are here. That’s what will make it home. The sooner you embrace it, the sooner you will start making those memories” (OK that may not be what he said verbatim, but I know that’s what he meant!)

Why am I remembering all this today? Because I am overwhelmed by how true those words were. I got married, I moved away from India and have been bored out of my wits (I once again repeat I absolutely hate this place- perhaps more than I love Bombay!). My dear husband, in an attempt to cheer me up, keeps suggesting holiday options to places we haven’t been – within and outside of India. And my only response is, that all I crave for is to go back home. And home is no longer Bombay.

It’s my house in Gurgaon. It’s my room. It’s sitting in the TV room lounging on the sofa watching mindless TV with mom and chatting about random stuff - from irrelevant building gossip to emotional family drama . It’s about eating and leaving my plate on the sofa and having dad look at me and shake his head. It’s putting my feet up and asking mom to come up with things I would want to eat. It’s about arguing about random things that people around us do. It’s about life.

Those annoying Delhi drivers who cut me off on the most unlikely turns, getting late for a meeting because a herd of sheep was crossing the main road, taking 40 minutes to cover 5 kilometers, infrastructure hassles. It’s all mine. It’s a feeling of home -of belonging. That house, that room, those people – I miss it all like a physical pain.

I have always been patriotic – more than a lot of people I know. But I underestimated how much I would miss India. Big error in judging myself – or, was it overestimating my coping abilities or the blissfulness marriage brings?! Here I am now, surrounded by culture which I know will never be my own, in a city with no friends, with work which I find barely tolerable enough for me to stay awake, people around me that seem to have few interests besides malls and food, no bookshops and an absolute paucity of intelligent conversation!

All I want is to go back home. I miss having friends in office – I miss coordinating across 3 floors and teams to sneak out for that 1 hour at barista – discussing everything besides the one thing we seemingly had in common – office. I miss knowing intimate details of people’s lives. I miss human contact – even though I am in an office for 10 hours of my day!

I’m repeatedly told its not that bad – I am almost certain that it is not. But, I am an alien in this environment – my demanour, my speech, my mannerisms, my thoughts. Communication can bridge barriers – but what do I do in a place where communication itself is an issue? I may be finding reasons to feel sorry for myself. I hope that’s the reality. But for now, I am lost. And don’t know where to begin to find myself anymore.

Hum of the day

I’m homesick. Today I heard the song from “Swades”. It made me cry on my way to work “ Yun to saare sukh hai barse, pat door tu hai apne ghar se, aa laut chalain ab to deewana, jahaan koi to tujhe apna mane”. I wish I was homeward bound. But for now, all I really wish is that I had the strength to make a home where ever I am. I am struggling – but I hope that I will see it through. I have a hand holding mine – one that reminds me that while my heart is split in two – at least one part of my heart has what it wants.