Past and Present

These days, I find myself reminiscing a lot about my teenage years. Perhaps its the isolation and the time I'm forced to spend with myself - and so my brain is finding new (old) memories to keep me occupied. Or perhaps, it's just me, almost on the verge of the big THREE O (still a couple of years left, folks!) - that I find myself wondering - how am I now living in the same city I wanted so hard to get away from? 

I moved back to this city - perhaps it would be apt to call it a hometown since it definitely feels like that - a few months ago. The last time I was living here was as a 14-15-year-old awkward teen - and barring some occasional visits to meet relatives after that; I genuinely believed I was out of this city forever; given that my parents weren't living here either. 

Well, my parents decided to move back to their own house, their home recently - thanks to my father's retirement last year. It's not as if I didn't see it coming - but I had assumed (quite arrogantly, may I add) that I'd have found a way out of my parents' house by the time that (shudder!) happened. 

Ah, well, as you may have guessed, that didn't happen.  To the long list of  'Reasons Why That Didn't Happen', I can maybe add the "This Great Year - 2020" (and beyond?) to the list. And so, I'm back in this city - to my hometown. 

This may seem strange, but for the first time in my life, I am comfortable calling a city my hometown. All my life, I have moved to multiple cities, to more houses than I can count, to various schools, even to a different country for a brief stint - and I never knew which one felt most like home. Everywhere felt like one and nothing felt like one.  

Now that I'm back in this city, I think I finally understand the meaning of 'hometown'. It's where I grew up, where I spent a part of my teenage. Where I made my first friends, had my first crush, had the first taste of independence. It's a place where I still have people I know from 15 years ago, where I have memories from the earliest years of my life. It's a place where I don't know the routes anymore because of all the 'development' - but I can still find my way. It's a place where an insignificant wall graffiti/advertisement about 'Bookland'  - a stationary shop - takes me back to my primary school; where this would be the urgent late-night destination because I would have forgotten that I needed a protractor/map/drawing book in school the next day. It's a place where the neighborhood grocery store still has the same name (and perhaps, even the board) - and if I look hard enough, perhaps, it's the same 'uncle' manning the shop. 

This city is familiar, and after a long time in my life, I don't feel afraid to come back to the familiar. I have been one always trying to run away from familiarity - didn't like staying in one place too long lest the neighborhood shopkeeper starts recognizing me as a 'local'. I've liked the anonymity when I've stayed in places for a short period of time - no one knew me, therefore I could be a new me to everyone. 

But here, the semblance of the past is heartwarming. I pass my old school(s) - and I remember the friends I made, the friends I wish I'd made, the people who I just thought of as 'classmates' but would love to run into them again. And I wonder about them, about myself - what were we when we were 15, what dreams and aspirations did we have? Did we fulfill that? Are some on the path to achieving that? Have some found new paths? Have some given up on dreams altogether? 

I haven't kept in touch with a lot of people from my high school - in my quest to run away from everything 'familiar'; I stopped keeping in touch with people who I once spent my days with. I always wanted to run forward to bigger, better, greater things - old people and places had no place in my plans. Ironical now, that I'm back in this old city and wanting a reunion with those old friends. 

I miss my 15-year-old self. She was hopeful, and aspirational, and dreamy. She was not cynical, she was unencumbered, she always pushed herself to become a better version of herself. She believed in the goodness of people and in the fairness of the world. Some may call that naive now, but I think, that's the way to truly be happy - without letting your experiences rob you of your positive outlook of the world. 

Being back in my hometown, and living here, as an adult is a bitter-sweet experience. I feel grounded with the familiarity, yet that itch to run away to 'something bigger' is still there. And perhaps, one day I will move away again - but this time, I will not be afraid to come back - because, this, after all, is home, in the truest sense of the word. 

PS. 'This City' is Noida - and having spent the better part of the past 10-12 years in Delhi, I never expected to feel such ... but how life changes and surprises you! 

The Special Person

When you come to know that someone’s first thought of the day is you, it overwhelms you. It astonishes you. You don’t know what you have done to deserve such attention; and it makes you feel extremely special and loved. That someone, is always willing to take your calls – so much so that they will set aside whatever they’re doing, just to talk to you for 5 minutes.  Rarely does it happen that they miss a call from you; and if it happens, they will promptly call back as soon as they get the time.The person  is always there for you; who can find a solution to all your problems. Someone who loves you so much, that it gets annoying, because they are worried about your well being all the time. It is a very gratifying feeling to have such a special person in one's life.

This special person is my mother. 

In the process of growing up, we forget about our parents. I assume that this is especially tough for a mother whose life has always revolved around her children. Suddenly her children have new interests, new friends, maybe even new people they love. In the midst of all this, we may just forget how unconditionally a mother loves. You don’t talk to her for days (which never happens in my case) – and the next time you call, her first question would be about your well being. My mother drives me insane sometimes with the amount of questions she asks: What did you have for breakfast? When did you sleep last night? Are you taking care of yourself? Is everything alright or is there something you want to share? Mind you, these are asked on a daily basis. I have to answer such questions repeatedly, everyday; and it irritates me to no end. More often than not, to each question I give a sarcastic answer – which doesn’t answer her question at all. Yet, she never fails to ask these questions, every single day.. in the hope of getting a proper answer someday, maybe?

My mother is my friend, and I like to think that I am hers. We gossip, we share our views (which means that I try to impose my views on her!), we support each other, and sometimes, we also fight. This is when I have to remind myself of the things she does for me as a mother – and as her child I should be respectful and loving towards her; and that she is always there for me does not mean that I can take her for granted. 

My mother holds multiple roles in my life – but perhaps the most important one is of her role as the person I can depend on, forever. I don’t know if there is a word to describe such a person, but if there is, she is the perfect example for that. 

Once, I asked her, to define what happiness is to her.  She simply stated: ‘The happiness of my two daughters.’ That one sentence sums up the important position we hold in her life; and I hope we are able to make her happy! 

Happy Mother’s Day, Ma. Continue to be the strong woman that you are! 

A year has passed!

It was twenty(something) years ago, that I was born, and I ‘met’ the best person in my life, my sister.

It was some ten years ago, that I met the best person in her life. (I was replaced, *sob*!)

It was one year ago, that the best person in my life, and the best person in her life, got married (finally!)

It was during this year, that I also realized, that I would be irreplaceable in my sister’s life (Yay! *relief*)

Congratulations Di and Jiju, for completing one year of married life. I cannot say togetherness, because God (and you both) only know how long have you been together. Seems like ten years to me….yes, people, it’s been that long!

How often do you meet someone, make them your ‘best friend’ only to end up falling in love? Yes, this sounds like the plot of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, right? I know. Love for SRK probably inspired my sister to follow the plot line, and lo and behold, the epic story of ‘A n B’ was written.

In short, they met, on the first day of college. My sister, the arrogant girl from Delhi, my Jiju, a humble and down to earth boy from Banaras. As expected, sparks didn’t fly, from either side. Both were too busy being interested in other people to notice each other.  As destiny would have it, they became lab partners, and then ‘best friends’. They were such good friends that they helped the other (try) to get their dream partner. And neither of them succeeded… clearly, they suck at matchmaking! (So don’t even try doing that for me!)

And now, imagine a cloud lifting if you will... and romantic music in the background... autumn leaves flying. The cloud lifts, and they see each other in a new light. A clichéd story to the core, they realize – ‘the one I was looking for has been here all along!’

Yes, this is the story of How they met…and fell in love. How they got married is a completely different (and long, and adventurous) story. It was years and years of persistence that finally culminated last January.  28^th January, 2014 is etched in everyone’s mind as the day nobody ever thought would come. It was a gala festival, a big celebration, the best month of my life! To see both of them finally get married and be so happy remains till date, the best moment of my life.

My sister is still the arrogant girl, from Delhi. My Jiju is still the humble and down to earth guy from Banaras…and yet they make it work.  Seeing them together makes me believe in the power of love, and friendship and family.

Di and Jiju, wish you all the happiness in the world. Both of you are wonderful, awesome, amazing, caring people, and I feel lucky to call you family. (This last part for Jiju only :P)

I love you both lots!

(And now I want some return gift. Thanks.)

(Also, Didi will probably scold me for calling her arrogant. But now it’s done)