Back to where I belong

So, I’m finally home, for good (for the time-being at least!). And it’s great to be back. There were, though, a few moments of extreme anxiety. Not only of what the future holds, professionally, but also of how I will adjust to the life here after having lived in the States for 2 years. For instance, I was standing in queue at the Air India counter (wanted to get a feel of India even before landing on Indian soil, and the fact that theirs’ were the cheapest tickets I could get a week before departing didn’t hurt either!) to have my passport scanned with a ton of other desis, and guess what, there was line-jumping. I was seething from within, obviously. And for a second, I wanted to turn away and run, run back to the life I was leaving behind, the life of courteous manners, smiling faces and clean, non-crowded streets. But it was just for a second, at most 2. It’s great to be back. And all it took was one outing in Delhi with my brother to get me back into the groove. Not only did the recollection of the 21 years I had spent in my country help, but also the advice my brother gave me was invaluable. On stepping into the Metro train, “Hold onto something else you’ll fall, and plug your nostrils else you’ll faint” (though I think we were contributing a little to the nice aroma of sweat too, thanks to the Delhi heat!). On looking for a dustbin to throw trash, “Just throw it anywhere” (though I didn’t listen to him; as long as I can help it, I never have, and never will throw trash on the road). Before leaving the house to go out to shop, “Pee!” (I did, and boy am I glad I did! The public restrooms in India, wherever available, are in an appalling state; wish we could do something about it.). On wishing him “a good day” when speaking to him “my” night of arrival, “You have to stop saying ‘good day’ to us all during ‘your’ night, and ‘good night’ during your ‘day’. We are in the same time-zone now!” (I did. And it really helps when people are around. Else they would brand you as someone who has just learnt the English language; just as when I had really short hair, everybody who heard my brother refer to me as “she” thought my brother was Englishly-challenged!).  

 

This is home; this is where I was born, brought up. This is me.

 

“I’m going to the place where love, and feeling good don’t ever cost a thing

And the pain you feel’s a different kind of pain

I’m going home, back to the place where I belong, where your love has always been enough for me

I’m not running from, no I think you’ve got me all wrong, I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old, so I’m going home

I’m going home!”

 

I AM HOME!

 

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Hmmm..a dance instructor is going to come home from tomorrow evening to teach us how to dance. The “performance” is on Thursday. Please God, please give me the strength to pull off whatever role is given to me with confidence and élan, be it that of a table or of a building, or even that of a tree, which might be tough considering it involves some movement, that of fluttering of leaves.