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...
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