Being Away

Away from home I mean. My home is our cosy independent house in the quiet Falnir locality of Mangalore. I spent the fond days of my childhood and adolescence in that beautiful coastal town. Pursuit of higher education and profession took me to Bangalore. Having managed quite fine during 4 years of hostel life at RVCE and the subsequent 2 years in a shared apartment during my job, interleaved with occasional visits to my aunt’s in Bangalore and monthly home visits, living away from my family is long known to me. But then, being away from my home country has definitely been new and much more challenging.

I can safely claim that we Indians have a craze for going abroad and for things which are foreign! Maybe to different extents, but it does exist. The television, the internet and our NRI relatives visiting us once a year, play their part in replacing our ignorance of the world beyond our borders with shiny glamour! Going through the drudgery of daily routine, a dream is often nurtured of someday getting a chance or being able to save enough to fly away into the land of beauty and abundance and sunshine, for a ‘foreign trip’! For some, the ‘foreign return’ uncle walking out of the airport dragging a trolley bag behind, appearing of fairer skin than when he left, sporting an accent and bringing back Nike shoes and Hershey chocolates among other gifts, is their hero! – someone who has made something of himself and in more ways than one, is going places! Well no harm done. Except that, in all this fantasy of the greener grass on the other bank, we fail to appreciate what we really have. With a classic case of – “you know the value of something only when you lose it”, I have been counting my blessings being away.

In an abundantly populated country like India, one fails to recognize the value of the people around – the family, the friends, for that matter, even strangers on the street! Something feels missing when we don't find 'our people' around anymore. Skype, facebook and gtalk with the added problem of time difference with India, are poor alternatives to personal human touch. Well I do have many friends among localites and of other nationalities. But then, the differences hinder cordial camaraderie and the few Indian friends have become fonder!

Being the food-lover that I am, the wishes of my taste buds drove me inevitably to the kitchen in Germany. Being only a beginner in partnership with a seasoned veteran, we manage above average results quite often, at times well beyond my expectations! Even then, thoughts of sungta randai (prawn curry), thallele visonu (fried fish), korri-rotti (chicken curry), pulikoddel, patrado, alsande upkari (english translation of my mom’s specialities are still unknown to google!) make the salivary glands flood my mouth! I crave for the simple pleasure of a pani puri on the street, hot mensinkai bhajji (fried chilly) with tea from a street-cart on a rainy day, roti with paneer butter masala from a highway dhabha, relishing a south indian plate meal with hands in desi style, licking last traces of chicken biryani off my fingers, and the wish-list goes on...

Europe is heaven for the passionate traveller in me. The excellent railway system, the Schengen Visa permit all over the European Union, cost benefits of the student status, planning and booking made easy by the internet – make my travel dreams a reality. Be it long distance trips or everyday commuting, comfort and speed are always on offer. And yet, the picture of the Taj Mahal or the Himalayas gives me goose-bumps, a lot remains to be explored in the sub-continent. Hanging for life on the footboard of the ever crowded local buses, feeling the wind sitting at the door of a moving train, the loud tea and snack sellers doing their rounds in trains, fighting with the auto rickshaw driver over 50 paise, paying the goods train driver to let us ride in the engine, taking a lift from a scooter-fellow?! - it happens only in India!

In all, the transition from a world where disorder is the rule and order is an exception to one where the order is the rule and disorder, an exception is very drastic. Be it something from a social setting like family gatherings, weddings, festival celebrations and visits to relatives’, to anything as random as the busy streets, the traffic jams, the loud honks, the crowded markets, the barking dogs – the confusion, the imperfection, the colour, the noise of it all when suddenly replaced by endless calm, order and silence, can drive one nuts in no time! At times, this silence is deafeningly loud!!! 

These are the times when listening to songs like “Yeh joh des hai mera” from Swades and “Maa” from Taareh Zameen Par make the eyes moist. I remember the times when I used to travel home overnight from Bangalore and reach early at dawn. My mom would open the door for me rubbing her eyes and ask me – “how was your journey?” with joy in her eyes. I am dying to see the same joyous eyes again, to enjoy my mom’s cooking at our dining table with my family, to feel the coastal breeze hit my face as I ride my dad’s bike around the town, to walk bare-feet on the sand by the water at Panambur beach by the sunset, to relish the Pabbas special icecream. No matter where I go, don't think I will ever find a place like home!