This one is for new beginnings.

(You might want to skip this if you don’t want to read about me. Thank you for coming here, though)

Before I tell you all about my journey, you should know that I am not the son of an army officer who has to wear uniforms and smell like good-byes. I am also not the son of a business tycoon who travels often and migrates with a suitcase filled with his family to wherever the market is looking good.

My father is just what he is supposed to be, a father. He does what he thinks will be best for his children. But every now and then, you can also see a small hint of a nomad if you look deep enough into his eyes. That’s how it began, by being a father and a nomad.

I was very young and in Delhi when my father got a wonderful job opportunity in Dubai and he had to leave us behind to go. Even worse, we had to shift to Chennai while he worked hard and became a warrior in the corporate world, fighting for peace and a beautiful house for his family to live in.

As a six-year-old in Chennai, I remember three things. Kinder joy, Jim Jam, and games. Of course, there’s the occasional ‘Remember that’ moment, but that’s usually just nostalgia and my mom talking. Eventually, we moved to Dubai.

I don’t remember much about the experience of my first flight except that I never even realized the plane took off because I was too busy eating. I spent almost five years over there, with Coke bottles, Indian food, and my best friends. But the obvious thing happened when I, personally, least expected it. My parents decided that it was time for the kids to learn what India was all about, and what better place to learn that than Delhi?

Because I was older, I don’t remember things about my time there that I wish I did. But then there is also the curse of being a human, which basically means I remember a few things that I don’t want to hold on to. My first heartbreak, first vodka shot, and my first poem have the same person and place in it. The same girl, and the same city. How can Delhi not be special for introducing me to love and Poetry? I called it home.

Three years into the best years of my life, we had to shift again. It is kind of obvious at this point because my family tends to do everything a bit too much, but this time was different. I knew what home felt like, I knew how a group of friends can be better than four walls and how disco lights can drive the darkness away.

For the first two years in Gujarat, I missed home. I wrote poetry on love and social issues but never on home because it was too damn hard. It got worse when distance took its toll on my friendships and I had fewer people to talk to as time went on. I developed commitment issues, and insecurities of my body and everything around it.

My life became a big coin flip and I had a very short span of time to call heads or tails, to call alive or existing. I don’t know what I chose, honestly.

One day, it all became okay. The nomad gene inside of me kicked in, and I promise you it is the best pain-killer/antibiotic ever. I still have atelophobia, and I still have insecurities but it’s easier to accept that now. I did not make best friends again, but I never stopped making memories.

I made my home but it wasn’t four walls or a group of friends, or two arms and a heartbeat. It was blurry memories, nostalgic smiles, and poetry. It took time but it was worth it. Stay strong.

Have a great year starting from whenever you read this.

64 Comments

  1. You’re truly a strong person!
    All I can say that Life will always go on and tomorrow will be truly better than today, for sure.πŸ˜‡

    Thank you for sharing this, really takes courage to do so.

    You’re writings are truly incredible, always keep writing!πŸ’ž
    Have a great New year!πŸ’•

  2. Well said. I can empathize, although we moved only within one country. As a child, I moved 28 times in 17 years. Always being the new kid can be tough, but it made me what I am today. Happy New Year. Allan

  3. It’s wonderful to hear more about you; it really takes courage to share about yourself. I think you’ll find it gets easier though πŸ’– At least, I have. You’re a strong person, and I hope you keep moving with the same positivity. For me, memories are everything – despite any pain they may bring, so it’s nice to see that you too can find the power and worth in it. I wish you only the best for this new year. May it bring you plenty more memories and smiles.
    Lots of love πŸ’•
    Your friend, Raven

  4. The choices our parents make — whether passive or active — can effect us profoundly and in unanticipated ways. My relationship with my own parents, and their choices, have greatly shaped how I relate to my own son. Wishing you peace in the new year :)

  5. You are breaking my heart as I read your story. Don’t you know that you are so deeply loved by your Father in Heaven, and the reason that you long for home isn’t because of what you had here as a child or young adult, but it is because you will never be satisfied here with this life until you find your way back to your Father in Heaven. When you are immersed in His love, there is nothing else that seems important anymore. You can’t find a drug good enough, a drink strong enough, a song long enough or even a girl or guy great enough to compare to the love that He has to share with you. Find your way back into His heart this year, and you will find a joy that is unspeakable! A life that is indestructible and a love that is incorruptible! Happy New Year!

  6. It’s always fascinating to learn about someone’s past experiences. Happy New Year! Hope you make memories in HD this year. haha. I am super excited for your upcoming poems and posts!

  7. Thank you for sharing about “home.” You were greatly affected by your families moves. I’m glad that you developed your own concept of home and what it means to you. I lived in one place growing up. Then, as a young adult I moved to another state, and then another state, with my spouse. But, went it came time to raise a family we returned to the area around his home. Mine true home was 2 hours away. Then, about 20 years ago, we moved again – as adults – with a family. I am happy to have offered my boys only one “home” but do not expect any of them to return here. I expect them all to find home where it feels most right to them.

      1. Thanks. There’s been some mistakes….like not taking our boys back to “our” home when they were young, especially around holiday time. We wanted them to enjoy those in our own home, but aside from one of their Aunt’s no one came here at holiday time either. That is something I would do different. But, yes, they’ve had a stable sense of home. Thank you for the compliment.

      2. I am very disappointed. I wrote a reply to you yesterday and I must have not clicked send because I see it is gone. Thank you for your kind words. We do our best but have made some mistakes along the way. Instead of visiting family (back East) over the holidays, we stayed at home, so our children could wake up in their own house to celebrate. But, family never came this way to celebrate either. As a result, our holidays are very quiet and I am left lamenting the holidays I used to experience as a girl. Thanks for sharing. I enjoyed reading “Travel Bird” as well. You probably know the saying, “home is where the heart is” and I do believe that is true. It is not a structure or even a place, it is a sense of belonging.

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