Coming Back Home..

Well, for starters, I managed to stay at ‘home’ today. Which means that I got some unpacking done!

* Piper pats herself and does a jig around the room! * J

The living room is looking more presentable than I had thought ( Thank God for small mercies!). Its probably the huge hand-painted wall-hanging that one of G`s students got from China. More updates on the full décor later.

There`s something else on my mind today. Mom Dad are going to be here in a month`s time. I`m so thrilled! I`m sure they`ll love it here. Like I did. I remember how I would roam around, wide-eyed and awestruck! Everything looked so new,so different, so clean.. I remember doing a recce of the grocery store in stunned silence. What first caught my eyes are the huge white onions,of the size of half a water melon back home! :)

The milk came in handy cans,instead of the plastic packets. The potatoes were huge,red and clean!! The passer-by`s were warm and friendly and always greeted you. The men would hold open the doors.There were no car horns honking away,as we whizzed along the roads at 60 mph. There weren’t any annoying pedestrians,trying to get themselves killed by the cars,as they cruised a busy lane.You get the drift…little things like that. Life comes to you,easy and clean here. America`s not ceased to amaze me..even now!

So what is it about good ol` Kolkata that I still miss so much?

Crazy as it sounds, the noise ,the chaos, the din, the pushy people. And bicycles,cars,buses,people,dogs,cats and cows – all in one crowded lane. Traffic jams,sultry weather, the smell of sweat, the kids playing with paper boats on muddy,standing waters of Central Avenue streets on a rainy day in summer.The municipality hand-pumps. The swish-swash of chappals in the sloshy fish markets.The putrid,choking smell in therel. The loud voices,bargaining with the vendors on Gariahat. The sea of people surging along the busy Sealdah station. The cat fights and the gossips in the women`s compartment of the 6 o`clock Barrackpore local. The sneering comments of the ‘muhallah’ guys. The roadside tea stalls serving tea in earthen cups. The crowd at Dakhinapan. The khadi salwar suits and ‘jhola’ bags. The jostling, the pushing and the rush to reserve seats at the metro stations. The fact that Park Street is the only metro station where the doors to the platform open on the left! The taste of fresh Ilish Mach (Hilsa fish). Biryani at Shiraz. And come September ,there will be stacks of bamboos lying by the road side,waiting to be fortressed into a magnificent puja pandal. Thousands of incomplete clay idols lined along side lanes.Some with a half painted face. While others still in the process of being sculpted into a scared figure.

Colourful faces and interesting hair-dos at Durga Puja pandals.The smell of incense,the sound of “dhak”(drums) and the ‘dhunuchi nach”(a traditional dance form in Bengal).The songs of Malalaya floating through the air at 4 in the morning,laced with some unknown,unacknowledged sadness. And ‘jilipi’ from the local sweet shops at break-fast on the day of Mahalaya(officially the first day of durga puja).

The smell of Ma`s cooking. Fresh, homemade yogurt.The family meals and the evening tea.

All of that. But most importantly,I miss the feeling of belonging. I miss the ease of mind that comes from knowing that this is my land. My nation. My country.This is the only place in the world I can roam around, without the worry of having forgotten my passport or a photo id. This is the only place I will be treated as a rightful occupant and not a “resident / non resident alien” with a number!

Would I then,trade places with anyone back home?? I guess not…

* Piper backs off sheepishly and tries to disappear! *

So much for Big Talk!

So seriously if you ask me, I do miss home. A whole lot and more. But I`m happy being where I am and dreaming about returning home some day.

Its like the story of this lil girl who is feverishly excited about returning back home from a holiday. So her mother asks her,

“ Which do you like better? Going away on a trip or coming back home?”

To which,the lil girl replies, “ Coming back home,ofcourse!”

So the mother says to her, “ Well honey, if you like coming back home so much, we wont take you along, on our next trip.”

Puzzled, the lil girl says,

“ But Mommy, if you wont take me out on the road, How will I ever come back home?”

That sums it up, I guess… :)