Homecoming

A weird feeling I must say. Yes, I have this mixed feeling about homecoming. I have stayed out of my home many times before for different lengths of time. This has been the longest. Each time I was excited about coming back. But this time it’s different. I dont know why. Maybe because I know how the previous homecomings gradually turned out into, this time around I am not that excited. It is always a bit different coming back to India after being abroad. The state of things in India always comes by as a shock when we return after a while. And to add on, the state of things in India seem to be deteriorating rapidly. I was quite happy till I reached the airport. First Delhi and then Bangalore. I was very impressed and proud that the airports were maintained at international standards. The facilities and cleanliness were in par with the other international airports that I had visited. Infact, I felt they were few steps ahead in terms of providing assistance and service to travellers. In Delhi, we had airport personnel guiding us and assisting us at every stage. In Bangalore, a spacious and well equipped baby room was in place and restrooms were spic and span with janitors present round the clock. I had flown solo with my 1.9 year old son to Paris from India a couple of years back and was in tears by the time I reached Paris. I found no proper help or guidance in either Doha or Paris airports.

I stepped out of Bangalore airport still with a good feeling. We reached the parking lot where our pre-booked taxi was parked and we were in for a horrible urine stench coming from all around us. It was so bad that my son now 3 years old exclaimed ‘Mom, its smelly. ‘I didnt understand why this parking lot was being used for public urination while I was pretty sure I saw ‘Toilet’ signs even outside the airport exit. Just when we were trying to get into our cab, our driver went behind few parked cars on the opposite side and did the very same act that was the sole reason for that horrible stench – public urination!!

I told myself not to lose heart, Bangalore is still a beautiful place and is livable. We used the toll road for few kilometres and the roads weren’t that bad, not much traffic and even the driver was driving decently. I was relieved. We crossed the toll booth and after a few mins all hell broke loose. All I saw till I reached home was vehicles and more vehicles of all sorts, all squeezing into roads that even after being widened have no capacity to accommodate any more of them. Traffic police everywhere but unable to manage any of the chaos happening around them, all the while inhaling those poisonous fumes just as much or more than the hoardes of daily commuters. The way people were driving was also no less than car racing, each trying to get ahead of the other, coming so close to each other that a touch and a collision was waiting to happen. Lane driving in India means everyone makes their own lane and drives. The lane markings are not even noticed.

We leave the peripheral roads and enter the inner city roads, which are as narrow as ever but more crowded. No proper functional footpaths nor dedicated pedestrian crossings. In every country we visited so far, pedestrians are considered to be priority and their convenience is given importance. But in India, with every step towards modernisation, we consider pedestrians to be superhumans, who can do just about anything from flying over holes and ditches in the invisible footpaths to crossing a busy road like no vehicles exist. Seeing this I was getting to worry as I had lost touch of my superhuman side living abroad. But this is a basic survival skill here.

Finally, we reach home and I must say whatever the outside world is like, however intimidating it is, a home is a home and seeing your family and friends just masks the scare. The things that really make a difference on homecoming are first, your family, though they might not bring in the band baaja or light the 1000 walas on your arrival, their silence and their subdued enthusiasm and acts of love are enough to flood you with a satisfaction of coming home. On homecoming, friends, more and more of them who drop by, give you the feeling of being wanted. And after years when you get to be with old friends and relive the old days with them, that is such a good feeling! Neighbours, doodhwala, vegetable vendor, corner of the road grocerer, barber, temple priest everyone comes up to you and speaks to you and makes you realize you aren’t forgotten.

And things that keep you busy in the coming days are the endless list of functions and gatherings—functions for birth and birthdays, functions for mundans and upanayanas, ceremonies for naming and house warmings, coming together for engagement and marriages and gatherings even for the dead—name it and we have it.

Customs, rituals, traditions and more. Greeting, meeting, eating and more.

Then you cannot forget the countless festivals and festivities—Sankranti, Ugadi, Dussera, Diwali, Shivratri, Krishna Janmashtami, Lakshmi and Tulsi poojas and Christmas and New year’s eve!! More reasons to meet, eat and merry.

You also start visiting temples more often as this was one thing that was difficult to do when abroad. And this also helps you to somehow find a sense of calmness and peace, which is very much required when surrounded by chaos.

Then last but the best homecoming payoff is the mouth watering and mind blowing array of food choices you get here. This will just make you wonder why you were away from home in the first place. No other place in the world can serve you food to satisfy your Indian taste buds than our very own India. The bhel puris or the biryanis, the indo-Chinese fried rices or the indo-Italian pizzas, the road side eateries or the fine dinning restaurants, the weight watchers or the weight loaders, the swiggys or the zomatos, the list and choices are endless. And if you are a food lover like me, you will very well understand why this one reason is enough to come back home.

Now after few months of homecoming, the excitement is dying down slowly but so is the anxiety. But I am also feeling very much at home. The traffic, the garbage, the dirt, the people annoy me less and I walk through the crowd and the smoke on the pothole and poop sprinkled roads with confidence. I gather up the superhuman spirit in me to cross busy roads without pedestrian crossing facilities, travel by public transport from one end of the city to the other and also manage to drive on the traffic ridden roads along with ruthless fellow drivers who could risk my life and their own any minute with just a second of haste or with an action of carelessness.

But I am doing all this with a feeling that this is my home and I do have to bear with these side effects or try to bring a change in whichever way possible and not just complain. My son too had missed up on the cultural and traditional aspects and also his family and friends all this while, so this is a small price to pay to see him happy coming Home!