Tuesday, March 6, 2018

What happens when you come back from india?

Hello fellow bloggers/ Readers,

It doesn't feel that alien'ish to be writing again. I think it's all about writing when your heart feels like.

So, here I am lying on bed all by myself at home on a cold dull afternoon..it's been a good eight months I did not live alone with no one around and all u can hear now is echos of the wall clock sound, been surrounded by family almost throughout the year and it feels so strange to be back alone single, specially after being married. (Announcing that I am married to the blogger world, doubting if any of the old readers still reading).

So confused what to crib about, about being alone or about not being with family around or about not being in India. I will start with the latter, it's weird how you get used to living in a place, every time I go to India, before I get used to living there it's time to fly back. This year after almost 7.5 years being in US, I got to spend 3 months in India. That's almost not possible to stay that long in your own country for the type of visa rules they have, if you reside in US not having a green card/ citizenship. But, this time because of a family emergency, I preferred staying back and being with family in tough times. Being there and sailing through all that just made me think every moment - ' would they be able to deal with all this if I wasn't there?' Not that I did much, but being there with family and making yourself count made me feel my existence. I kept thinking, if I go back, how can they deal with things like this?

When I was coming back, in the flight on the TV screen I kept going to the flight tracker and check how far I have gone. I kept zooming into India and tried zooming in where it spotted Hyderabad, how much ever I would zoom in, I couldn't see the streets or my house.

One day, I told my dad that I would install a CCTV camera at home in the hall, so that I can see what is going on at home and if papa is eating his food on time and not skipping meals because of some silly argument he'd have with mom.

As I sit in my bedroom or hall and look at things, it reminds me of things scattered everywhere..mom's knitting kit, sister's laptop or random sweaters and shawls here and there, seeing all of it, I would complain and gather everything and put it back in place. The empty tables and chairs  look so boring and lifeless now. 

There's a lot I miss and a lot to complain, from having no luxury to keep manju ( maid back home) or our skinny short driver Arif. I am back to having to drive myself to work and clean the dishes that's been lying from the last supper I cooked. That craving of daal and chawal never fades away after you travel and you are back home wanting some comfort food. The responsibility to cook for yourself everyday and eat whatever to survive is no fun, I hardly remember going in kitchen and cooking or doing dishes past 6-8 months..mom, sis would do it all. I miss the luxury of just going to the kitchen and scoop out food and eat and also complain if bhendi was cooked
or if mom messed up the kadhi. 

All in all, it is going to take me more time than ever to recover from this trip and I am going to miss every moment spent in the past 8 months. I would re- live bits of it by scrolling on to the pictures on my phone and that is all.

Hope it wasn't that sad of a post for you all to read.