The other day, my girlfriends from our small Indian community here were talking about feeling 'homesick'. They were remembering the things which are easy to get and are of better quality in India.
'Oh, I miss the street food, the savory snacks, chats and sweets. I used to eat those every evening. My native is famous for those', said one.
'Me too, but what I miss more are movies. I used to watch first day, first show of my favorite star's movies', sighed another.
'I miss the herbal cosmetics. What I get here are very expensive, and they don't suit to my skin.' complained the third one.
....... and so on went the conversation. Food, cosmetics, movies... everyone had something special about their city which they were very fond of and for which they could not find a replacement here. It made them feel 'homesick'.
All these conversations pinched my heart too. Afterall, I was also nostalgic about so many things, though my taste was different than that of my friends. Being born and brought up in country, I could not go after street food or movies and things like that during my growing up days. Instead I had many other wonderful things which my village life offered me and which I would look forward to all the time. As I walked back home that day after our conversation ended, I was also walking down the memory lane. Then I decided to make a list of all those lost privileges of mine.
That list had some very interesting things that I missed now, such as...
* the warm freshness of the sun dried cloths.
* mild sweetness of the semi ripe guava freshly picked from the tree.
* sight of a peacock dancing on the slopes of green hills in the morning sun.
* running to the mango grove after a storm to collect the fallen (but good n tasty) mangoes.
* picking young rice grains from the green panicle of paddy plant and sucking the sweet juice.
* splitting the ripe jack fruit with bare hands, taking out the fleshy bulbs without getting sticky and savouring the sweet juice as the bulb melts in mouth.
* leisurely strolling in the rice fields in the evening sun, often daydreaming.
* squishing a honeycomb and licking every bit of honey that comes out of it.
* wearing the divinely smelling jasmine flowers on hair.
* guzzling the fresh coconut water (whether tender or ripe) on hot sunny days.
* swinging carelessly on a banyan prop root.
* lying on the tank bund for hours in the hot sun and observe all the birds and animals which come to drink water.
...........
Even if I go back and live in my village now, I can not relive those moments. I may be able to enjoy some of them, but not all, for sure. Time and age have built a wall of so called 'maturity' between me and my once dearest pleasures. Now they can be best remembered as bygone privileges that make me 'homesick'. That's all!
-Rekha Hegde.
'Oh, I miss the street food, the savory snacks, chats and sweets. I used to eat those every evening. My native is famous for those', said one.
'Me too, but what I miss more are movies. I used to watch first day, first show of my favorite star's movies', sighed another.
'I miss the herbal cosmetics. What I get here are very expensive, and they don't suit to my skin.' complained the third one.
....... and so on went the conversation. Food, cosmetics, movies... everyone had something special about their city which they were very fond of and for which they could not find a replacement here. It made them feel 'homesick'.
All these conversations pinched my heart too. Afterall, I was also nostalgic about so many things, though my taste was different than that of my friends. Being born and brought up in country, I could not go after street food or movies and things like that during my growing up days. Instead I had many other wonderful things which my village life offered me and which I would look forward to all the time. As I walked back home that day after our conversation ended, I was also walking down the memory lane. Then I decided to make a list of all those lost privileges of mine.
That list had some very interesting things that I missed now, such as...
* the warm freshness of the sun dried cloths.
* mild sweetness of the semi ripe guava freshly picked from the tree.
* sight of a peacock dancing on the slopes of green hills in the morning sun.
* running to the mango grove after a storm to collect the fallen (but good n tasty) mangoes.
* picking young rice grains from the green panicle of paddy plant and sucking the sweet juice.
* splitting the ripe jack fruit with bare hands, taking out the fleshy bulbs without getting sticky and savouring the sweet juice as the bulb melts in mouth.
* leisurely strolling in the rice fields in the evening sun, often daydreaming.
* squishing a honeycomb and licking every bit of honey that comes out of it.
* wearing the divinely smelling jasmine flowers on hair.
* guzzling the fresh coconut water (whether tender or ripe) on hot sunny days.
* swinging carelessly on a banyan prop root.
* lying on the tank bund for hours in the hot sun and observe all the birds and animals which come to drink water.
...........
Even if I go back and live in my village now, I can not relive those moments. I may be able to enjoy some of them, but not all, for sure. Time and age have built a wall of so called 'maturity' between me and my once dearest pleasures. Now they can be best remembered as bygone privileges that make me 'homesick'. That's all!
-Rekha Hegde.
