As always, I have been pondering over a lot of stuff, and
more so lately due to the overhaul in our life, the temporary country shift, et
al. The ponderings have now become vocal and I seem to have become garrulous in
extending the gyan to a few of my closest friends. And writing about them
always helps me summarise, hence the following content.
My blog has been cluttered with the recent events in my
life, mainly the break from career and staying across the world. Everyone goes
through the emotional turmoil, of living a life of loneliness, away from kith
and kin. The cultural difference and the very idea of ‘fitting in’ in someone
else’s land is a huge task in itself. The legal formalities and extra
cautiousness to adhere to all the paperwork does not make it easy. There
remains a constant scare, a ‘flight’ stimulus that coaxes you to return to your
own place at the first possible chance. I do not want to sound stereotypical.
Some people do take to the new country like fish to water. Outliers, or
otherwise, the people who settle down in the initial months survive happily,
unlike us unlucky souls.
Amongst all the confusion, indecisiveness and contentions, a
visit back home became necessary, just to remember our sane selves. The run-up
to the trip was quite exciting, dreaming about Mom’s cooking, about playing
with my pet, etc. but a day before the journey, you are again high-strung due
to the distance, the getting-adjusted-to-IST thing, and the premonition of
again leaving your loved ones behind when you will be travelling back. Yeah, I
do tend to think a lot.
This is when I went into a self-rediscovery mode.
Self-actualisation is a superhuman feat, but I believe knowing oneself to a
large extent and empathy are two things that defines personality. There is a
bit of Gemini in all of us, we are two human beings residing in one body. Our
inner namesakes decide, with time, the extent of revealing oneself to the outer
world. We call that the hunt for the soul, of finding the sheer meaning of
existence. The more you talk to yourself, the more insights you get of the
person you are.
Empathising plays a great role when this internal tête-à-tête
happens with another person. The more you gauge your own life, the more you
realise that the person in front of you has his / her own story to tell.
Slowly, this entire empathising-behaviour gets internalised to the extent that
every time you meet a person, you remember his preferences and biases, you try
to read his mood and body language, and weigh any crises that might be existing
before you open your mouth to rattle off about yourself. Obviously, your own
bias and opinion about the person also shapes the conversation.
The above two paragraphs may or may not make any sense to you,
maybe I am just rambling to myself. But as I said before, sometimes jotting
down helps me frame my thoughts. Being home after a long self-imposed exile
brought back childhood memories. You yearn for things to go back in time, when
you wake up to the heavenly scent of Mom’s cooking, the familiar sound of the
steel company’s timely sirens, the surprise at the voice of the same hawker who
still passes by your street and best of all, the numerous people you meet on
the road who remember you since as a child. And you are happy that the town is
developing, with more shops at the local market, a new mall cum multiplex that
has opened up, and the technological and fashion upgrade around the landscape.
What is sad, or scary, is that – while you were away, you
have grown a year older. You have missed a precious year to be near your parents,
to cater to their needs, to play with your dog, or to see your house requiring
more repairs. Some things you feel are exactly the way you had seen last, but
they astonish you the most because they would have definitely changed over the
period. For you time stood still, with two visits a year. You expect the same
scenario to be retained, but those memories bring the maximum heartache.
The last decade has been so hectic that I never had a chance
to realise the importance of ‘moments’. In a hurry to rise up the
career-ladder, I never took a step back to think and relive the old memories.
Reading at the exact same spot where you used to study as a kid, the smell of
oncoming winter, the sun-bathing on the veranda on a cold noon, mixed with of
course the pampering and care received at home. Everything seems so simple and
tension-free that it makes me glad to have grown up as a small-town girl, and to
have such down-to-earth parents.
Soul searching or namesake hunt, the potpourri of emotions
is what makes people interesting. As for me, I know that even talking or
writing about the memories will not erase one prime state-of-mind: GUILT. I
think many people feel the same, with the growing financial needs and cravings,
we are never coming back to our beloved small towns. The getting-back-to-roots
is never going to happen; the bigger task lies in accepting the same and
carrying on with a normal life.
All we can do is reminisce about the past, implement the
happy thoughts in the present, and hope to create a lovelier future. Amen!
