Growing up, home was always across the Gulf. Well i’m the Middle East kid. And this is what home felt like: the muezzin’s call for prayer before dawn, the heavenly scent of roadside sheeshas, the scene of the Saudis clad in their traditional thobe(kinda scary at times) and the taste of freshly grilled shwarma meat melting with the sauce.
All of my childhood years were spent here and as a matter of fact nothing much changed for me ...... the same place, the same house, the same school, the same shopping destination.Huh....Nothing really changed???....Sob…sob…sob…I want to go home :(... I have always cogitated about the travelling kids. Those who shifted schools with every place their parents were transferred to, and whose friends took on fresh flavors along with the new food. I still wonder if they feel life is more exciting for them. Do they ever long for the stability of a single place, or do the relocations make it all worth for them?Now thats a pretty tough question to stack up against those who are virtually helpless.
I wouldn’t know. Because as I grew up in the Gulf - learning to read from the right to the left, getting used to my name being pronounced as “yuni” and beginning to love long evening walks at the Corniche beside the sea. I had my place to belong. It was familiar enough for me to feel,it was home.
I guess that’s why being transported for good to a place across the sea was a big deal. There was no home anymore, nothing that felt known. Everything was different, a big adventure, a source of great thrill. I landed in India,the place i used to visit ocassionally once a year.
The funny thing about coming back to India is this – being Indian, you’re supposed to fit in…...but weirdly, everything feels alien. For one, this land is quite overloaded quite unlike the desert. The greenery takes your breath away, there’s a constant earthy aroma in the air, and and it’s forever crowded! Picture this: You take the bumpy bus ride being jostled by a dozen others for the same standing(!) spot under the railing. You’d think that squeezing in more people into a single bus would reduce the traffic on the road. But no. You’re still held up in the same spot because some merrymakers have decided to take their dancing to the streets.
India amuses you at first.
Then other issues become reality: the electricity problems are chronic, the mosquitoes bite, no air-conditioners, the weather is irrational. You think you’ve seen it all in the desert, but here is where you swelter in the heat. And then monsoon arrives in style: It pours down to confine you indoors…only to finally stop and make it icky to walk outdoors.
You learn to adjust.
And over time, through the monsoons and mosquitoes, and the crowds and the confusion, India slowly grows on you.You learn to look for opportunity beyond what is familiar, get used to the sound of different tongues and adjust to new friends from varied backgrounds. You can’t sleep without the noise anymore, you need the morning cry of the sabziwallah to wake you up, and buses not packed with 75 people look empty to you now. Before you know it, it’s here you belong.
And slowly, you've accepted.
Well, what more can I say? Just when i thought, i had finally found my ' true ' home, here i m back to the desert land in pursuit of a career.
So thats it folks......Pls do post in your invaluable comments......... I value the bouquets and brickbats alike, so send in the feedback and let’s have a dialogue........Well until ma next scribble Inshallah this is UKV signing off :)
