Tempest

Wednesday, 14 May 2008

Home is where the heart is

I've been meaning to write this post for a very long time. A post about home.

I live in London. I love this city. I love the little neat cottages with slanting brick roofs that line the side streets and the small gardens with roses, tulips, weird arches, creepers, bathtubs, kids and dogs playing. I love the sights of an odd housewife standing on a porch talking on the phone and an odd grandpa trying his hand at weeding. I love the small corner shops that say 'wine shop' and sell everything from alcohol to groceries. I love the fresh smell of the air here, the expanse of the great blue sky, the winding roads that seem to go on forever making you believe they lead to neverland.

I also love the heavy crowds and lightening speed of life in the central. I love the hustle bustle of oxford circus where the world's biggest brands come together on a single street that today helps define fashion globally. I love the big supermarkets where variety is not the spice of life but more like a confounding charm for many a bewildered shopper. I love the big banks with architectures that go back a few centuries opposite the squares and the metro stations that seem to turn up whenever you need them.

I love watching the people. I love the sight of black, red and grey heels clicking on the sidewalks of main streets in the mornings when the workforce is on it's way to accomplish another days set of goals. I love the sight of people in the tubes. I love the way every morning people habitually pick up the free daily 'metro' irrespective of whether they will or wont read it. I love the way they are all dressed up in the mornings in formal suits of only three colours - red, black and grey. I like the thought that I add colour to the city's population in my mismatched blues, greens and pinks! I love the way in the evenings the tubes are strewn with remnants of the morning paper everywhere, the shirts are out of their tucks, people are sleeping with their mouth open, others are borrowing pens to complete the 'sudoku' in the evening paper, women are touching up their make up (I keep wondering how they apply mascara in a moving train) for an evening out 'with the girls'. Most of all I love the fact that people read. Almost every other person has a novel in hand. Some sit and read, some stand and read and others bend over in awkward positions to read what they are reading!

I love the mixture that London is. I love that almost every third person is a foreigner. I love that everybody is so friendly and eager to hold a conversation with a stranger. I think it is because of this bond of all of us being strangers on a new land. It makes you come together in an odd way. I've been to New York, Paris, Chicago, Boston, Ottawa, most of the main cosmopolitan cities and there is no other city that sees no difference between Indian, Spanish, Chinese or Norwegian. I love the culture in this city. There is every kind of dance, every kind of music, every kind of stage performance one can ask for. From Broadway to Shakespeare's globe theater, the city is rich in things to do, places to visit and explore. I've lived here almost two years now and I try to discover and see something new every weekend. I still haven't run out of things to do and I don't think I will for years to come. A couple of months ago, my aunt and I printed out a map and set off on a 10 mile walk to discover Karl Marx's grave which is here in Highgate cemetery. Every nook and corner has a history of its own and the beauty is that it has been preserved in such a way that all one has to do is revive ones inquisitiveness and rediscover it all.

I love the confidence this city instills in you. I love the way the systems make life so much easier. I love knowing one can live life without help from anyone. I love looking at the 70 and 80 year old brave elders who seem to be so agile and fit and capable of doing everything from their grocery shopping to a night out in Soho independently. I also love this city because it helped me discover myself. It threw my way a kaleidoscope of experiences that tested the negatives and brought forth many positives in me. The city showed me what I am capable of. It taught me that if one can imagine it, one can achieve it. It gave me an affirmative told me it was okay to stand by my beliefs and live life my way.

I love it, but I still can't call it home.

I've moved house almost every year and a half for the past 22 years. Looking back I love every single moment of my life, cherish every single memory and have no regrets. I have loved and enjoyed most of the places I've stayed in. Every places teaches you something new through its people, through its culture, languages and habits, through living. I have vivid memories of the Nepalese 'Ramro cho', chinese noodles, anglo indian hostels, leeches and green mountains in Kalimpong. I can still recall the fun and joy of the early teenage years in Ferozepur from swimming to horse riding, boys, dirty jokes, parties, dancing, early arithmetic and Punjabi food. I remember Bangalore teaching me the valuable lessons of cherishing intimacy and close friends that are in actuality not that easy to make, that money can be an important aspect of life, parents are not as wise as we consider them to be and life is all about learning. Delhi gave me my first taste of independence of dare devil pranks and exploring and discovering and taking chances, living for what one truly wants to do, understanding that happiness and optimism is what life is truly about and any sort of negativity is against the circle of life, to change that and turn it into something positive.

I have loved and lived these places and many more. I have sometimes wistfully fancied what having lived in one place would have been like and then realised that every moment of my diverse life has been wholesome and amazing. As a kid when I used to protest against the constant shifting I used to be told that the place doesn't make the person but rather what the person does in that place makes the memory.

As I sat staring out of the window this afternoon, looking at the yellow sky smiling down at the world at large I racked my brains to think of what or where would be home for me. And I realised that something in all of these years and through all of these places never changed. Something always remained constant. The people I loved never changed, I always loved them and they always loved me. The people you love are a reflection of who you are. They mould you and blend with you. Irrespective of where you are they give you a point of reference, a sense of belonging, a sense of confidence that allows you to adapt to every new setting without them even being there, simply because your heart knows how to find its way home.

This is an ode to and an acknowledgment of all the people I love, always have and always will.

My parents, who have been extremely encouraging, loving and supportive through every step since the first.
My soulmate Varun, who just fell into my life like a meteorite a few months ago but has been holding my hand and walking alongside me since when I was a little girl and discovered I could dream. I love you.
My grandparents, who have loved, spoilt and pampered me to no end.
Pulkit, the oldest friend that I remember who's scrapes never cease to surprise me and who's always passionately loved me.
Divya, my first true book buddy and intellectual partner who shared many a 'novel' crush with me.
Madhuri, my swimming partner and personal gossip column who taught me how to bake cakes and skip school.
Manisha, who showed me what gentleness means and completely idealised the concept of love...one of the last few believers left in the world.
Karan, who redefined rudeness and showed me being tolerant is not as easy as it looks and that friendship always comes first.
Rajiv, my cousin, local musician, friend and confidante. He listened to many an endless agony with a grin on his face.
Sid, my cousin who introduced me to alcohol, nightlife and all the 'bad stuff'!
Divya, my cousin, my first competition in life...together we learnt that competition should be and is meant to be friendly.
Tanu, who taught me a galore of swear words that i still can't seem to memorise and loves me like a sis.
Neha, who was always cool for one more shop lifting escapade and loads of philosophical talks under trees.
Anu, who became friends in a matter of seconds and then refused to let go.
Shriya who speaks of fortitude and is an inspiration everyday.
Ashwathy, we learnt that friendships can happen in the most bizarre of ways and places without reasons.
Chitra chitti and Mouli chittappa, who showed me that largess of heart and being generous and kind is actually easy and is still what makes the world go around.

Home is where the heart is and I have a full house!

Labels: friends, heart, home, London

Posted by Pavitra :: 07:37 :: 14 comments