At the age of 17 I left the comforts of my home to settle in what will become my second home for the next ten years. And it will remain my home away from home, forever. I can say I grew up as much in Mangalore and Bangalore as in Chandigarh and Delhi. And its my life there that makes me what really I am today.
Early morning temple bells,
rangoli at every entrance,
the flowers in the hair,
jasmine in the air,
inherent simplicity of people everywhere,
akka and amma,
thick moustaches,
a bindi for every girl,
the extra 'h' in names,
sounds of the sea,
warmth of the sunsets,
rains that never end,
summer breeze that chills,
the high of filter coffee,
melting-in-the-mouth idlis,
some really tender coconut water;
strains of 'mungaru male' from the distance,
every moment, a memory.
I know I am home when they ask me, you've arrived aah?!!
That home is a precious chamber in my heart. I find solace there, just thinking about it, whenever it gets too tough, mundane and tiresome.
Quoting Rabindranath Tagore here..
'This day my heart seeks not
To count that which I never got.
Today, amidst the light and shade in my soul,
There plays that music still.
I did love this earth,
Yes I did love it.
And the memories of those flowers
that blew in with the southern breeze
Still lingering on..'
