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.
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:
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!"
