“We are from Lucknow”
“Home is where the heart is”
“Apun to Mumbai ko belong karta hain. Baaki sab bakwaas”
People usually have a tendency to associate themselves with the places they’ve been born/brought up in. Then there are those who hate the places they so intimately know.
Like it, or loath it, you are identified by it. It’s where you belong.
Very recently, I made some time out to my home, in Gurgaon. It was a very nice trip, and I got to meet a whole bunch of friends out there. I also got a chance to see my newly born nephew. Speaking food wise, it was a grand success. This was a “reset self” trip of sorts.
I got back, from vacation last night and was mesmerized by the weather here. It was really cool. Yes the people were nice, and the feeling was of well being.
I felt dark though. I cringed when I heard people calling up with opening lines like
Honey, I’m home.
Buddy I’m here, where are you parked?
Ram Singh!#$% …. I had told you to reach airport by so and so time. Where the hell are you?
I had no one to “call and report” my status to. No driver to scold, for not reaching on time.
All I had was this feeling of vulnerability, stark nakedness and helplessness there.
Quite contrasting from how I felt when I arrived at home. It was bright, sunny, and very uncomfortable. However, the overall feeling was nothing short of awesome. There were people who called in to check wether I had reached, safe and on time, wether I needed to be picked up, wether I need to eat some extra special breakfast, on when am I planning to visit them. The drive to thier places seemed to take ages.
Back on arrival to Hyderabad, I hopped on to an AeroExpress, and reached home in no time at all. Then I dished some food from the fridge, microwaved it, and ate it. Alone.