If it were not for these days for which I had been waiting, the post would not have been there in the first place.
I wait long months for the days of February and March for two reasons. First, I am left with much time to myself and the prospect of planning a trip home. So, as the days, I call them slower days, have arrived, it is obvious that I am in for better mood and spirits.
I have made Delhi my home, for reasons which are clear. The city gives me the means which has led me to live a reasonable life. This city is where I can get lost at will and don’t have to think what the other fella is thinking about me..gosh he is busy with his life to stop and think about me. Unknown-ness has a meaning in this city. Obviously, I am from a small town.
As the sense of time seeps in, the longing for days of childhood increases. Would my childhood friends remember the time I am longing? Recently, I found a friend from childhood who has completely forgotten me. As I see my children grow I have been gathering their beautiful memories, which I am sure they will not remember as they grow up except for a few. So, the forgetting of a friend is not that terrifying in the first place.
I get back to my (home) town once in a while, just to see how’s the life-changing and sadly it is changing fast and it no more resembles the place I had once grown up in. In a sudden turn of fate, I feel more lonely there than I am here in Delhi. I go back only to slow down, Delhi has a frantic pace, and, I need to slow down once in a while to rebuild my energy. But, the once small town has become even more frantic. I am left with no place on this planet to feel my own and a sense of nomadic drift has engulfed me. Nobody can call Delhi his own…childhood in this city, as I see in my children builds a kinda self-centric thought pattern without the humbleness of the life all around.
I had moved out of the small town only to get lost. I got lost and long many years were those, but as I find my way in the mystic sense of finding the lane one is waiting for a lifetime, I do not find those strong reasons which I once had for getting lost. I have to head back. As Gandhi had once said about travelling around the world and ending up in a home, a sense of deja vu no more exists. Living with the thing I have and hardly thinking about the things I don’t have. I recently saw an episode of ‘Highway on my Plate’ on NDTV Goodtimes where a person has travelled worldwide as a chef and has returned home after a decade or so to open a small bakery in his hometown. Longing and Loss are bed partners in a strange kind of way.
As I sit down here in Delhi and pen my thoughts, I see now that the few of the things from which I ran away are no more relevant. Some of the people, I thought loved me, I found out, they no more love me. For most people I am irrelevant. I am not the figure I was running away from. I am lost in the place of my childhood, where I had thought I would never be lost.
Circle it is, Life…