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“Let me return to my home town entombed in grass as in a warm and high sea” – Giorgio Bassani.

My home neither has a warm grass cover nor is blessed by the high sea. It lies in the dusty heartland of Chhattisgarh. It’s a featureless land, with no tourist attraction, no mountain but yes, a geographically insignificant river does flow (as in you won’t find it in geography books). If you were to come with me thinking that I would show you some majestic waterfall or a park or garden, you are mistaken. I would end up taking you to nearby market area with lot of eateries. But nevertheless, it’s my home; it’s where I get to chat with my mom over a hot cup of tea. It’s where I cherish “elderly” conversations with my papa when he returns home from office, and it’s the place where I get to see the old family albums. I love it not for the geography, but for its people. It reminds me who I am and who I was. Sometimes I thin
At home with kanha :)
k everything has changed back home, but the reality strikes me when I go away, that it’s still the same, only that I have started looking at it differently.

It’s been a year, since I have been home. My father pulls my leg saying that I have forgotten family and friends there. I can sense the seriousness in his tone, a fear that it might be true. What do I like in this city (Bangalore) anyway? I spend my weekends at some pubs or some fine dining restaurants wasting money on food and useless coffee. I don’t seem to be doing so well romantically, I don’t have dates to go to, nor am I socializing and meeting new people. I enjoy working in my job, but I am 200% sure, it’s not what I want to do with my life and also, it doesn’t give me a penthouse luxury to bask in. Why drag for a job whose salary makes you sad rather than happy? For the first time, I want to go study in some institute where I find my true definition, extend my wings (or so I believe). It’s tasteless out here. It doesn’t make sense to be here anymore, but neither does it make sense to go back home, defeated, back in the den where you ran from. In the movies, after the entire struggle, after all the drama, and after everything is done, the epic walk into the sunset with Ed Sheeran music in the background, what does it mean? Where is the hero going? Is he going back home, where the petrichor  fills the air and warmth of the sun reminds him that it’s over and now he can relax and live happily ever after? Or is it just another place with another scuffle awaiting him.

The clichés of everyone’s choices and dilemma’s sometimes astonishes me. It’s so common, it’s happening to everyone. Everybody wants to go home, but sometimes, I feel that sense of purpose might be different for all. Some are tired, some are homesick, some have done and dusted their deeds, but overall everyone has a different reason. I sense a looming irony here. There’s a chaos in the clichés.   Our fathers had their own story, when they were young, which they bravely narrate, like how they used to walk 10kms to attend their school, (some granddad’s would even stretch it to a 2 day walk). Do we get to say something like that? Do we get to say that, we went on an adventure, fought the darn world and came back home. I guess we have to wait and watch. 

 Anyway, another one of the illogical write-up fills up the digital space here and I as usual arrive at no conclusion what so ever. However I don’t intend to have one, instead I have come to understanding that maybe it’s my thing to crib about such banalities. Maybe it’s because we are the books we read, the films we watch, the music we listen to, the people we meet, the dreams we have, and the conversations we engage in. We are what we take from these. We are the sound of the ocean, the breath of fresh air, the brightest light and the darkest corner. We are a collective of every experience we have had in our life. We are every single day. So it’s okay to drown ourselves in a sea of everyday trivialities and existence. We all are different. We are all ourselves.

I somehow have a feeling, that I should rename this blog’s title as “Kya ye ladka ghar jayega?” and drag the write-ups like episodes of “how I met your mother”.
Discover yourself 


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