Home is ....?

What exactly is a Home?

Home is where the heart is?
Home can be in a person?
Home is where our story begins?
Home is where memories are created?

I never really pondered over this question until... I was forced by my subconscious to do so.

For a little bit of background, I spent the first 17 years with my family in a small town, Mandi. Some summer vacations in Punjab. Almost 6 years in my college and surroundings in Haryana...almost bordering Delhi. Then one crazy year spread across Belgium, Portugal and a small town in East Germany. Mind you some of the seemingly short stays became home so fast and so dear. Especially in Belgium which was my first stop in Europe. There was a second 'growing up' I went through there. You can say like learning to ride a bike again (wink if you know). And now almost 6 years in Hamburg. I have spent almost as much time away from the childhood town as I spent in it. 

Having lived the most time in Hamburg in recent years, you could say that my current home is Hamburg. Especially since it's also really special time as I am trying to make a home with my husband now. Well, I thought the same. But apparently, my subconscious mind disagrees. 

Well, anytime I have dreamed about home (literally, dreaming while sleeping), the events of the dream are happening in one of the two rooms in the childhood apartment. No matter if the dream is about college friends, or random people I met in other places who have never heard about Mandi. Whenever I am saying 'let's go home', 100% of the times, it has been the same location. Sometimes I was still bewildered after waking up, laughing at the thought of having a strange combination of people from different time points in my life all gathered up in my childhood room. But my mind cannot comprehend that home could be a different place. 

Is it because all my formative memories are there? Is it because I was learning what home and family meant when I was living there? Was I the happiest there? Was I the safest? Most comfortable? 

Since writing this draft, I have had dreams where I was at 'home' a couple of times. 
Guess where the dream was set ... ;)

And then it rains

The consistent sunny weather seems too good to be true. Is this year special? You lose yourself in enjoying it, anticipating the best, creating numerous plans for the more sunny days to come. Why wouldn't you? You are bubbling with positivity and everywhere you can see is full of life.

And then it rains. It's not subtle. It consumes you at start. Completely. 
Just like that, with no warning, you have lost all the sunshine in a flash. The skies pour down - outside, and within. You're scouring both these skies for any single photon you could find. Is there maybe one? You close your eyes and desperately cling on to the leftover rays you could recall. It's taxing to do so. It starts to physically pain you. And then you drift away into sleep. 

It is still raining when you wake up. It starts to hail. You are livid. Is this anger towards the sun? How dare it just disappear at its peak brightness? Is this anger towards yourself? How come you didn't have any influence over the sun? 

Eventually it rains a little less. There are even instances of weak sun rays falling on your window. Is it your loved ones who are trying to send small packets of sunshine from their far away lands to help you get along? Is it you getting used to the new weather? Regardless of the reason, some normalcy creeps in. You get a little comfortable. There are still bursts of lightning every now and then. The lightning brings back all the misery. But it is short lived. You are feeling guilty now. All the hopes and anticipation and I am done with missing the sun already so soon? In this mix of emotions, some time passes by. You have fleeting memories of the sun, but the days go on.

And then it starts to rain. And once again, suddenly it floods your world. You  accept your new world, and the rain has changed you to fit this new world. 

Since hope is the currency of life, you still have a desire to see a rainbow somewhere far along in time. For now,  you sit on the balcony and your gaze alternates between the muddy mess in the ground, the clouds above, and the occasional patches of sky visible through them. 

The drizzle continues.

Dr. Parmar: Around the world, and back home

 2006.  12 year old me was looking intently at the slideshow Dr. Chiranjit Parmar was showing me on his computer from his very many foreign trips. A fruit scientist, he had worked and taught in several countries in all the continents of the world. 

How I know him:  He was the chief guest of a small event organised by the local library in Mandi. He was an eminent scientist in my home state. He had presented a small award to me for... the most visits to the library in the calendar year (lame, I know)! Since we lived few meters away from each other, he had invited me to his home afterwards, I was sitting in his study, listening intently to his stories. Additionally he gifted me a one year subscription to a Kids' Magazine, Balvihar, of which I still have very fond memories reading.

He surely had very many things to do, but he chose to inspire a young girl that day. I feel this was a very important experience for me. I have been around the world today for work, study, love and more and somehow I keep going back again and again to this afternoon as the point where the seed was sown - to experience the world. I carried on with my school, while staying connected to him. I looked up to him and wanted to be like him. Even this blog I have is an outcome of me reading his blogs on facebook, where he published short stories 'Around the world for fruits, friends and new experiences'. 

I went to college. On my bi-yearly visits home, I would visit him. He would always have some time to chit chat with me - listen to me worrying if I chose the right study course for myself, or in general how my studies are going. He would always give me his perspective which he gained through a wealth of professional and life experiences. I appreciated this wealth more and more as I got older, as a 12 year old I could not fully comprehend the depth of what he said to me, but I made sure I made a note of what he said in my small diary.The words were always oscillating in my mind and kept making more and more sense the more life I lived. As a bonus, I would always get great book recommendations whenever I visited him. So this visit once or twice a year was something I would always look forward to. 

So life went on and I set foot outside of what was familiar to me, but with open arms. Months and years passed, I kept an open mind and immersed myself in the new surroundings. I gladly shared my experiences with him, we both discussed our Europe travels. I even asked for his autograph on the travel memoir he published, like a little fan girl. I got inspired to do it myself one day.  

Further life went on and I learned that he had developed liver cancer. Through his brave fight through all this he had a very positive outlook. He would still update his blogs, with humorous tales about life and treatment. If the movie Anand, had been modelled after a real person, he would have come very close, I thought.

Fast Forward to October 2023. I went to his home to talk to him and give him an invitation for my wedding. He was bedridden and was in so much pain. It was very obvious that this would be our last interaction. I found it really hard to say something but I at least wanted to remind him what an impact he had on my life and the decisions I took. I tried my best to convey that. On finding out my to-be husband is a German man, he mentioned some sweet random sentences about his travels to Germany, before blessing me with all his heart. But I couldn't focus on anything. I had a lump the size of the Earth in my throat. 

I went back to Hamburg after my wedding. A couple of weeks later, I received the news of his passing away. I read what scores of people wrote on the internet for him. They were, like me, touched in their lives from his presence. I read all of this with tears flowing non-stop. I was regretting my last interaction with him. 'If only I could mentally prepare myself and have a better last conversation with him, instead of being choked in my throat'... but these thoughts were pointless now, I had to live with it like it was. 

It's been two months and I fleetingly think about him, how different my life would have been had the 'scientist uncle' had not invited me to his home 18 years ago. I don't know. 

But in those fleeting moments, I get emotional thinking, can I make something so good out of my life that I could play his role for some other little girl one day?

Thank you for bringing so much positivity into this world.

From one of our yearly meetings.

How I Learned to Ride a Bike (again)

Recently I have been drawn to my bike more than usual. So much biking around: In my city, across my city, in the neighboring country, by the river, in the park, on the mountain, everywhere. I enjoy this activity and it feels like meditation to me, to set off in a wonderful path and pedal along. Funnily today, I saw a kid learning to ride a bike and it reminded me of the funny experiences I had while learning to ride a bike. It was not my childhood. I was 23 and I had just moved to Gent. And THAT is what this blog is all about. I have taken a long pause from this blog, so I thought, why not restart with something silly?

Some people say riding a bicycle is one of the things you cannot unlearn. But not only I had unlearned it but also grown scared of doing it. And then I moved to Belgium. And what did I see all around me? People, bikes, people riding those bikes, people walking their dogs while riding their bikes, and my favourite one - people dragging their luggage to the train station with one hand while on a bike. But I couldn't do any of that. Determined to change that, I went to a store one fine day and rented myself a bike. Only I couldn't ride it yet. At the store I met an interesting man, also starting at the same school as me. We lived in the same area, around the university in Gent. He asked if we could go together and around the campus. ''SURE'' was my first thought. ''SILLY BIKE INEXPERIENCED WOMAN'' was my second one. Feeling insecure and not wanting to look stupid, I went in the other direction, so that we didn't have to bike together. I walked my bike for 3 kilometers to my home. And that was that for the week. Every morning I saw my shiny bike parked outside my home. I felt really bad. It's like when Ross said to Phoebe, ''This bike wants to be ridden. You're killing the spirit of the bike''. So I picked a night - both lovely and lonely- to try it out in the park in front of my home. Only I couldn't. Of course everything has to be perfect - the luminosity, the temperature, the stars, how else can I ride a bike? 

Determined to complete my mission the next day, I went out. The sun was shining. People were minding their own business. The weather was perfect. There cannot be a better time. So I rubbed hands like a makkhi and unlocked my journey for adventure. I remembered the lovely tricycle I rode in my childhood. Time to make you really proud, buddy. I tried to take off like a smooth criminal. Only I couldn't. With wobbly hands I gave my dream another try. There I was .. trembling, but moving forward. Gaining confidence, I picked up speed. I tried to frame my very own success story that was to be shared generation after generation. The stories of the bravery of the bicycle girl. Until I stormed into a park bench. But I didn't fall down. That's a good start! I moved further, regained balance, and moved over to an empty street. 

I shit you not: I got better exponentially.

I rode with a smile. I rode with grace. And then  I was gliding through the empty street with open hair and wind passing through it. I loved to feel the wind in my hair. The sun was shining on my bike rear. The birds sang songs when I rode past them. Artists were mesmerized by the beauty of that bike ride. All men wanted me. All women wanted to be me.

And then my wheel got stuck in the tram line and I crashed hard and welcomed some bruises. The seat of my bike rotated 90 degrees clockwise. And let's say I was thrown into a position from where I could REALLY appreciate the beautiful day. And if that was not enough, a tram came from behind and hit me. Okay, not the last sentence. But imagine if it really happened! With my bruised elbow, I walked my bike back home and it remained untouched for a long time. 

Eventually I did get better. And managed my way in the tiny Gent and huge Hamburg. When I am not sure about my day, it is now always an option to take my bike and ride away into a beautiful path. Or get to know a new one. Leaving the mundane behind and pedaling away without a care in the world - whether in the next street or miles from civilization. And I have never been disappointed. 

Out of Sight...?

 ''I have checked-in my luggage and walking to the security now. Are you on your way back already?''
''No, we will stay until you take off.''
''That won't happen for the next 2.5 hours.''
''So?''
''Okay, FINE.''
My anger started to cool down, and I wanted to go back and hug my family and my dear friend. To this day, I regret walking angry into the airport, to start the journey, which had started this incredibly long vanvaas. If I had the chance, I would have done it differently. I would have not fought with them on our last day together before I left for Belgium. Typical tiny family nok-jhonk. Two years later, I still crave for the departing hug and recall the tears as I boarded the plane that brought me into the most exciting years of my life. Who knew I had to stay away for that long at a stretch
How can time seem both fast and slow, depending on the case? 

• I started my master program. I blinked. And it was all over. It involved a monstrous bite of learning, getting to know a handful of people, and free expansion process of the mind. 

• I started living away from my family. It feels like 20 years. All the plans to go back crashed beautifully one by one. 

Well I did expect to ''miss out'' on a lot, but with only 3.5 hours time zone difference, high speed internet and video calling, you have immediate access to everything and everyone, it's practically like you're there, right? Right?

In the years, came small and big celebrations where I was always missed. People I was REALLY waiting to have kids, had kids. Some people made my childhood really amazing and I was always looking forward to being a cool Aunt or cousin to their kids. I simply can not. No amount of video call could make me play guguthi with them but that's a compromise. Okay. Things happened in an around my tiny town. I mentally walked around Mandi, recalling each tiny detail, eventually ending up in my peaceful place - by the river - where many hours were spent playing and sitting and thinking on the way back from school. It feels like a dream. Something that wasn't ever real. I expected some of this when I decided to go to another country to study. But due to the twist of events, it has been so long that I haven't got a chance to go back yet, nor does it look good in the near future. Close friends apparently started disliking me. I wish I could explain that with a reason. As stupid as it sounds, I have no clue. Maybe distance doesn't beget affection in all cases. Maybe in some cases the brain transfers the distant thing into the Fort of Forgetitude. It's of course, not entirely black and white - like everything else in life. I am somehow communicating regularly with few. Sure, the knot there is a bit frayed. But it's still there. 

Feeling being phased out slowly from the life of all my loved ones is a strange experience. There is nothing too big I can do about it. It took me this long to realize but for me, physical proximity matters in sustaining a relationship more than I thought it would. My thoughts are no longer the daring ''Always close. No matter what. No matter how far''. 

This is what makes me write again after two years. This is what makes me complain again. Yes, this promises to be a personal blog and the reason is simple:  Sometimes I am doing great, and I want to document an overwhelming happy experience. Sometimes I am not doing great, and I have to ventilate a bit. About everything. But mostly,  I am confused about everything in my life. This little blog has been transferring emotions from my head to the ''outside'' for ten amazing years. Having said all that, I feel I can go back to my work with a blank mind again. 

xx

 

A Home in Heaven

Far from the madding crowd, a visit home has become a craving nowadays.
A sojourn at home clears the mind from all the clutter and the toxins accumulated during the stay at Delhi.

Greeted by half a dozen species of birds in the morning, I realized that it is the best alarm to wake up to. I never realized the worth of this chirpy alarm in my school days. It's only now that I find it so special because I can't find even crows in the place I now live in.

Speaking of the place I live now, Quick Update :D The last six months have put me at the threshold of a new phase of life. Standing on the shore, with arms wide open, the world yet to be explored. Some major and minor changes have come up. The cab-waale bhaiya calls me Madam instead of the regular gudiya now, which felt awkward in the beginning. I have two white hair that I no longer pluck from my head and no longer make a big deal of, or write poetry about. Numerous circumstances gave me a taste of affection, betrayal, serendipity, cruelness and unconditional love as well. All in all - the sweet taste of life.  Having understood the importance of love and human connection, I have held my loved ones who still wanted to stick with me a bit tighter than before now.



Coming back to the topic, back here at home, the days are slow and light. The myth of a "productive day" is gone. We are immune to meaningless numbers and never-ending deadliness towards again, more meaningless work. The time, though not productive by accepted standards is very fulfilling for the soul. The morning is spent with the brother roaming around and being reminiscent of the memories of a dear childhood.

Remember we used to gather here and share ghost stories?

Remember there used to be a tree over there which we used to climb?

Remember that girl who lived in that house who used to cry a lot?

Remember you were stung by bees beneath this tree?

Remember you fell from there while flying a kite and broke your bone?

Remember after your foot was burnt in Diwali, I used to push you around on bicycle from here to here?

Remember how we used to hide up there and throw flowers and leaves on anyone who went by?

The sweet sunshine gives respite from the ice-cold winters. An afternoon nap under the blue sky is therapeutic. Falling asleep watching the romance of the clouds and the snow-capped mountains in the distance is a luxury.  No honk honk of the cars, no slam slam of anything else. You wake up from a deep sleep, totally relaxed, with an uncluttered mind. (But you have to be careful, the nap is susceptible to interruption by  monkeys, dogs, kittens, and occasionally mongooses.)
This is a place where I will be lovingly offered paranthas and I can lovingly refuse them and ask my brother to bring a new one for me because it had gotten half a degree colder while bringing from the kitchen. 

The evenings are pleasantly full of love and chit-chat, head massages, old Hindi music, teasing, and laughter. The nights are silent and shiny. Life slows down its pace. You have a lot of fun, do a lot of things. And still, it's only 7 pm. Whaaaat? Running out of things to do, you take out the old photo albums and take a walk down the Nostalgia Road. You discuss for hours the small, big, bittersweet events in your life captured in those pictures. That's how a regular day goes by.



Just like that, one of the nights, I boarded the bus back to Delhi. Waking up just in the time to directly reach the office, and finding myself robotically entering the metro surrounded by people on all sides, I tried to digest I was no longer in the mountains. No slow life, no playing with monkeys today, no limitless sky to lie underneath. Moving my neck in all the directions possible, the only and exact words that came out were:

"Yeh kya ho gaya mere saath Bhagwaan!"

Bro!

It so happened while talking to my little brother today on his birthday that I was wondering how old he is now? 12-13? When I performed a little calculation in my head and counted the years gone by since December 1999, I gasped a little realizing that the little boy is not so little any more!
Eighteen. I started to remember how I had felt when I had turned eighteen although it looked like a long time ago now. That time, 18 felt big, while now even 24 feels small. I was so busy growing old so fast that I didn't pay attention that my loving brother was growing up so fast.

It's quite hard to imagine how time has flown so fast and he has grown into a 6-feet person. Whenever I hear "brother" my mind instantly switches to the picture of the little fat lump that my parents brought home one fine day. He had eyes so big and belly so round and fingers so tiny I could cry. I marvelled at the little creature in awe. I remember asking my parents, "Is it ours?" and them smiling back oh so lovingly.

He has grown through the time of pushing me around the house in my shiny bicycle to driving me to temples on the top of small hills now. He has been a very crucial part of my childhood, a subject to my experiments, the bearer of my atrocities as the tyrannous elder sister. (Maar pitaai, kharoche etc). I had also convinced him that he was not a part of our family and was dropped at our door in a basket by aliens.

In the last many years, I have never heard him say anything good about me. Still, he has always always ALWAYS made me happy whenever I had a tear in my eye (Even if some of the times, he was the reason). Being his sister has developed me as well over the years and a good part of my qualities has developed while performing this role.

I had such an overwhelming feeling of affection and lots to express that it tangled up and I ran out of things to tell him and that's when my awesome friends came to my rescue and gave me some words. Golden words from some fine men that I have known.
On this note, I'm leaving some of the shimmer of the gold mentioned above for you to read as well in case it makes you feel good or smile. They range from "Don't get into relationships" to "Learn from your sister" (Extra points to you man!)

Here is your "Virtual Card" Birthday boy. The one you won't be able to lose out of carelessness :P

Troy Bolton: It's never late for a change. Looking back always helps to introspect. I will say these words to myself if I can go back in time

Coolie Coolerson: 😎 Well my lesson to him would be "Don't get into any serious relationships, keep it cool"  (He obviously means tell your sister everything :P )

Genny Gennerson: Hello young friend. Welcome to the Just-Hatched-Into-Adulthood club! I know this birthday seems to be worth a lot more celebration, because, you know, the "18+ factor" and the complementary "will to fly into your freedom" perk. But on a more realistic note, I hope this birthday not just brings you lots of celebrations and memories but also a sense of responsibility, maturity, accountability and discipline. All for the betterment of yourself and your family. Make your efforts count. The end of the school days marks the exposure to a big, 'DIY' world where despite the so-desired freedom, the only person who can do good for yourself is you! The closest example of a good blend of all these virtues is your sister herself. (Blushing) Aside the mutual teasing and bullying, try learning a thing or two from her.😋 She can fluidly teach a bunch of coarse villagers, so you can be sure to receive the best if you're at her receiving end! 😇I guess that's enough of the "gyan" from my side! Wish you a good day with joy and togetherness! Happy birthday🎂

Draco Malfoy: Accept no one's definition of your life..! Define yourself..!

Gunther CentralPerk: Live in the present.. Travel a lot.. Make new friends.. Don't care about what others think of you

Shatabdi Express: I'm not a learned man but just sharing what I got to know(may be right may be wrong) Happy each and every day. Enjoy not only your b'day but each and every day of your life. The only day your problems will end is when you die. Don't worry about them. Never stop learning till the end moment of your life.

Ben Geller: Choose a good adviser, the who just tells you what you want without adding his/her opinion in it. He/ she will guide you to success. Trust me.
Listen to everyone's opinion, but do just what you want to.

Now you are 18th..so here's some word from Latey Laterson -
" Be passionate about what ever you do.. give your 100% always and have the child inside you alive always, there's less fun actually being grown up😛.. Care for the ones who care about you and whatever situation might come in life, always carry a smile
with you bcz ups and down are part of life but smiling in ups and downs is art of life...."
So take care, enjoy your birthday and have a great year ahead.

The Last Act

"This had to happen sooner or later, you should have been prepared." she said to herself as she wiped away a solitary tear drop sliding across her left cheek.
Today. After all this time, it happened that the will power gave up and the lingering fire finally famished, devoid of anything to feed upon now.

Now that she's having it, she despised this feeling absolutely. Yet it came with a satisfying tinge of its own. Satisfying because knowing that this is the finale. It all ends here.
Why is it satisfying, when it's wrenching your heart completely, you may ask.
You are secretly wishing for something to happen, with all your intention: Something which may, or may not happen. Knowing that it is never going to happen can be a blow in the beginning. But it gives you the permission to abandon all your desire for that thing, and get along with the pace of life, and leave the flowers of false hope to rot.
It is official now that the doors have been sealed by fate and it's time to move ahead and look around, there is nothing for you here now.

Now this is something unusual to hear from an obstinate person like me. Even I didn't expect this. But what can we say. It took way too much time for me to realize.
The time has come. The act is over. The heart and mind had to accept it now. They did. It's time to think of a beautiful life, without this false dream now.
You must have felt this kind of feeling at least once in your life, which is a perfect balance of agonising pain and enervating sadness.

And that, my friend (as Rachel says it) is what we call c.l.o.s.u.r.e.

Fare thee well, dream unfulfilled.