Of Bonds and Belonging

This August , it will be an year since we moved to the US. The move happened so quick and the events went by at such an alarming pace, that I did not get time to breathe. Among other things, it was a time of farewell parties...and thoughtful gifts that my lovely friends gave me. 

As I moved into my new home in Scarsdale this weekend,  I re-discovered some of the gifts I had received, and that were lost in the infinite number of bags  we got from India. Among them - a set of cushion covers by a famous artist, a ‘happiness’ jar, a poster of things people said about me, a quiz on ‘Knowing Preeti’ , CDs of all my favorite Bollywood numbers, a sequined stole and a saree that belonged to my friend’s granny that she passed on to me .And a lovely scroll by my bestie in Mumbai...that detailed all the B words that reminded her of me. Bitch, Bhel Puri, Beer, Bawling, Baubles, Building, Bully among others. Each word had a memory behind it. 

And it teared me up. Completely. 

This move to the US is a wonderful opportunity for the family. I feel blessed that my life has, at regular intervals, changed its course and taken me to entirely new places. It is always a great learning experience to move to a new place, and observe and understand how people live, what drives them and what their core values are. It is wonderful to roam the country as little more than a tourist in transit and really appreciate its beauty and the underbelly. To cook as the locals do, to enjoy the sports they enjoy, and to part of a multi-cultural global community - it can’t get any better!

And yet, I miss what I have left behind. I miss Mumbai- its incredible spirit and the amazing people that drive it. I miss the network I had created, not because I have awesome social skills, but purely on the strength of growing up, studying and working in India. To try and establish credibility in a new country is such an uphill task. And a little de-humanising as well, because of the sense of entitlement that comes from ‘belonging’ to a place or people. Clearly, there are some things I have to unlearn first.

Most of all, I miss my friends.Nothing quite fills up the gap that I feel because of the physical absence of my beloved friends. I say physical, because all of them are utterly gracious -  keeping me in the loop on what  happens in their lives, making me part of whatsapp groups for events, and facetiming or calling me when they are together to tell me I am being thought of and being missed. 

I have re-connected with old friends in the US, and am enjoying re-discovering them. I have met new lovely people as well. And I am possessive of my time with my family now. 

Yet, I miss the ease and simplicity of my relationships in Mumbai. Friendships that were defined by a mutual love of some sort- for food, books, movies, gossip, music, work , kids or bondings because of school, college or work. Of bonds created and strengthened over endless cups of tea, a Bollywood dance club, vodka shots, training for marathon, learning to cook  a new cuisine, plays, pedicures and manicures, arguments over books and movies, samosas and popcorn and walking on Pali Hill or Bandra together. Most of us were working, and yet always found time to meet, lend a shoulder, offer advice, or merely hang out together  for the sheer joy of being friends. 

When people tell me that I will end up staying for more than five years in the US, my heart cringes. When they tell me that this is the best place in the world, I don’t argue with them. They have not walked in my steps to know where my heart lies. And what I consider the best place in my life...

Forgetting Friends

Praneet found a CD full of pictures of my birthday in 2008. Most were horrendous pictures really- of a plumper me with a shorter haircut ( killer ones that no blackmailer should ever get his/her hands on) .As I flipped through the pictures I saw many faces - of friends, and not friends anymore. There were a handful of people who, six years hence, are not in my life . Some that I threw out of my life by choice, some that chose to not be my close pals anymore .I looked at both of these groups and shrugged. I had gotten over the anger and mourned the loss in both these cases. What brought a strange feeling was another set of people. There were those in the pictures who are no longer part of my life...and I didn’t even realise when they had exited. They ceased to exist for me, and I didn’t even notice?

Just as the capacity of a human mind to not forget is great, so is the capacity to not remember. Else how do I explain how I forgot those friends? Forgot them so completely that it took a moment to register who they are. I mean - they were important enough for me once upon a time - that’s why they merited an invite to the party.We must have shared a few laughs, had a few drinks together, hung out for a while. And I have no clue, or rather, no memory of when we stopped being part of each other’s lives. Did we drift apart over a period of time? Or was there a moment when something went wrong? Did we move away because we befriended other people, or was it that our work schedules did not match anymore? Did we fight or not clear up a misunderstanding? For the life of me, I don’t know anymore. All I know is that if there was any pain , bitterness or anger  - I don’t remember it. I do remember some snatches of the good times I had with them - like walking in Jogger’s Park, ordering chinese and biryani from little known joints and some gossipy morning calls and ginger tea. It felt nice to see them again, but there was no urge to re-connect once more. 

The truth is - life moves on. And people come into our lives for a reason or a season. And then they leave. Some go in a blaze of anger or bitterness, and some ease off gently - so gently that one does not even realize it! You don’t miss them. You don’t think about them. It’s like they were never a part of your life. 

What was heart warming for me however was this - the very same friends who I considered my soul mates, my parachutes, my safety nets then - are still in my life. While there may have been conflicts between us and huge fights because we did not agree with choices that the other made, we have stuck together. They are still the ones I  call late night, hound on whatsapp  and whose inboxes I flood with emails. They are the ones I can get sozzled with, share all my intimate secrets with - and they will protect me much as my mother would! They have stood beside me through my worst crises,have lent me their shoulders to weep, and slapped me on my face to help me get a grip. We have the courage to say what needs to be said, with utmost confidence in the strong bond we share.  And even though we don’t stay in the same city anymore, and don’t talk on a daily basis, we are together.  I hope my best friends will outlive me, and party at  the Bollywood bash that Praneet will throw in gratitude of my earlier departure!

Now with this momentous cross continent shift, and the fact that I can’t hide anymore behind the pretext that I was busy settling us in and writing,  it is time to make more new friends. Will these be Indians? Or people from other races/nationalities as well? Will these be parents of my kids’ friends? Or people I will meet in the course of work? I don’t know!

Yet, in a few years,  I will get another reality check. On who will still be in my life, and who would have moved on. Except that now I know what to expect - and so will make sure that I master the art of posing for photo shoots so I look slim, sexy, beautiful….;-))