The Longing


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I was about 8 years old then and till date it is one of the best family photos. My dad is holding me up

When I was a kid, my father used to work in Kolhapur 8 hour train ride away. He used to come once every month and usually on a Friday as it was the day when he had off. Before my birthday, on 8th November we didn’t receive any phone call from him. I think I was worried as he would call everyday at a fixed time. My mom wasn’t worried and that should have given me the hint. Next day on my birthday my dad surprised me by coming home in the middle of the week. The memory is still blurry but I remember getting really happy and my dad’s belly laugh.

I am doing the same thing now.


My manager/company CEO Warren told me a month ago about the company Christmas break. Other than the 5 public holidays, the company doesn’t shell out a 3 week break like every other company. The first thing that came to my mind was I can go home now.

I acted on the impulse without thinking much and within two hours I had booked my flights. I rapidlyy fire messages to all my friends in India telling I am coming home. I was two seconds shy of posting it on Facebook as I realized that my parents would see it. My trip is a surprise for them, it is exactly as I have always pictured my first trip home would be.

I would ring the bell in the morning and my mom would gasp when I say hi. My dad would probably be eating his breakfast and ready for work. My brother would be too sleepy to bother but I know he would be really happy as well. My dog, Jimmy would be the one who is visibly the happiest.

I won’t be landing in the morning but I still expect a similar reaction. If anyone ever tells you a month is not long then introduce them to me.


More than a year ago, prior to me getting an admitted to AUT or getting a visa, I was having dinner with my dad and brother. We were talking about my future and how I was innocently saying that doing Masters’ would be easy or something like that. He was always reluctant with the idea and I always thought it was because of the money involved. He admitted his reason that night.

He said that he was worried that I will leave them and eventually forget about them. I blame Baghban movie for that kind of thinking. His statement was the equivalent of a sucker punch to my gut. Suffice to say that night was a very emotional night for us. My brother wasn’t much emotional though, he was laughing about it eventually.

I did my best over the last 15 months to not forget about them. His sentence would always be in my head.


“How long have you been here for?” a friend asked me.

“15 months”  I replied. I didn’t like rounding off the number or saying more than a year.

“That’s not very long”

“It feels longer”


I have never lived without my family. As a kid, my parents used to scare me that if I didn’t behave they would send me off to boarding school. I think every parent used that line to, sigh, get their children in line.

If I had I would have some experience with living with myself. I would have some taste of the freedom. I would have known how to cook better and how to deal with my finances better.

Today, I don’t have to answer to anyone about where I am going or when I will be back. I can come back at 6pm after work or I can come back at 2am after a party. I could eat whatever I want and I can even sleep hungry. I can keep a stack of clothes on my rooms’ chair instead of hanging them on hooks.

This freedom brings along with itself loneliness. Regardless of when I come home, my room will be quiet. There will not be my angry sulking dad or my chattering mom. There is no dog wagging his tail at the door for me.

I am by no means saying one life is better than the other. Neither am I saying I wanna go back forever. I could enjoy my life as much as I want here and at the same time miss the life that I had back in India.

I can be happy with my life in Auckland and still long for my life back.

For the next three weeks I intend to enjoy my home, my mom’s cooked food. I intend to enjoy meeting old friends and share a laugh or two. I missed them all.

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Words….


( ( Calling Uncle Bob

Have you ever faced a difficult situation when you had to choose between sorting it out yourself, or asking someone else for an easy fix? What did you choose — and would you make the same choice today?))

As I sat preparing for my exams my dog Jimmy decided that was the best time for him not to sleep.

Though he was supine right in the middle of the bed he was someway irritated and looking to chew something, maybe trying to grab air and chew it. This has happened many a times before and like always I gave him my hand so he could chew.

He doesn’t bite, just takes my hand inside his mouth and keeps it there. And after a while he sleeps, mostly with my hand still in his mouth, me feeling as a small dog chew toy. This time I had to scratch his head.

So with one hand tracing the textbook lines, other kept scratching and petting jimmy. Whenever I stopped scratching he would wake up and look with those big brown irises asking me why I stopped.

So this went on for half an hour, me scratching and studying. And when I stopped he was still asleep, dreaming of chicken and bones and everything favourite.

Makes you wonder what he would have said if he could have. Like somewhere along the lines of ‘Hey I have an itch to scratch, on my head. Help’ Or something else entirely.

It is thought inducing how him without saying a word or making a sound could convey what he wants. And how simple is it for him. Life’s big questions for him would be where to sleep now or what’s mummy making.

No words. No complexity.

Words. I always had a problem with them. I could never put them together, make them jell. Make the listener completely comprehend the kernel of what I intend to say.

And then I started blogging.

It is freedom.

I can write anything I want, how I want. Completely independent of who reads it and what they will think. Freedom which you will not attain outside the webpage where conversations cut short your thoughts, and sociality and mannerisms hamper you.

It is honesty.

Honesty that is interpreted as a fake in real life simply because no one can be that honest.

Every single one of the seventy something posts is me. Me, unfiltered and complete. People liked my thoughts and words, praised them. Writing became the sole way for me to express myself. I wrote to say sorry, wrote to say thank you and wrote for everything I could write on.

And I forgot that blogging ends with the website. That as soon as I click publish I have to attenuate myself for this world.

My honesty in real life spurned loose, and transpired to shamelessness. My freedom is now what I take forcefully. In complete disregard to others around me.

I forgot that blogging and real life is never the same. One of them is a page to write some four hundred words, other is more than just words. It is life. I got carried away.

I said things that have repercussions beyond my control. And now I realize that while my blog posts are me, I am more than those one paged posts. While I get followers and likes on blog for my thoughts, in my life thoughts are just a small role to play. My actions speak louder.

So here I am maybe taking an oath. I’ll change. Keep my freedom and honesty to my blog. But somehow finding a correct balance in life. Because I should.

Because I got carried away

Jimmy has it so easy.

Thanks For Reading
Itsmayurremember

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