The other day my dear friend N visited us in QuaintTown. She still lives in QuaintCountry and I have known her since childhood. It has been a few years since she made her first journey to India: she visited Rajasthan and fell in love with India. So when she finally had the opportunity to return to India she was really excited, even though it was a very short trip.
She stayed over at our place. It was lovely to have someone from back home. I always love to welcome people from back home into my Indian life and I get super excited about showing them around. I love to introduce them to our every day life. It is the simple things that matter most: where I go for a walk with Baby QuaintHeart. Where I buy my breakfast eggs. Where we pick our veggies. All the tiny little details.
I am not sure why this means so much to me, but I think I re-evalue my own adjustments when I see them through someone else's eyes.
In addition, I do not want to lose touch with my roots. It has happened once before that I had so completely immersed myself in Indian culture that my family was shocked when I visited them in QuaintCountry. This is not about dress or other such obvious signs, but rather that I had become completely detached from my roots and was a very different persons. This was painful: this look of disbelief in my family's eyes. I would not want this to happen again.
But my most favorite reason for having friends and family over in India is that I get to be a tourist again. I let N choose some spots she wanted to see in Mumbai and then I planned an itinerary for her, which was so much fun! We travelled in the local train to watch down from the bridge in Mahalaxmi and observe the Dhobi Wallahs. I have done this dozens of times and I have also gone inside the Dhobi Ghat (of course Mr. QuaintHeart took care of me). Then we continued our journey, standing at the gate of the train and letting the hot breeze ruffle our hair. It felt beautiful. It felt like a holiday. It felt as if I was in India for the very first time.
She stayed over at our place. It was lovely to have someone from back home. I always love to welcome people from back home into my Indian life and I get super excited about showing them around. I love to introduce them to our every day life. It is the simple things that matter most: where I go for a walk with Baby QuaintHeart. Where I buy my breakfast eggs. Where we pick our veggies. All the tiny little details.
I am not sure why this means so much to me, but I think I re-evalue my own adjustments when I see them through someone else's eyes.
In addition, I do not want to lose touch with my roots. It has happened once before that I had so completely immersed myself in Indian culture that my family was shocked when I visited them in QuaintCountry. This is not about dress or other such obvious signs, but rather that I had become completely detached from my roots and was a very different persons. This was painful: this look of disbelief in my family's eyes. I would not want this to happen again.
But my most favorite reason for having friends and family over in India is that I get to be a tourist again. I let N choose some spots she wanted to see in Mumbai and then I planned an itinerary for her, which was so much fun! We travelled in the local train to watch down from the bridge in Mahalaxmi and observe the Dhobi Wallahs. I have done this dozens of times and I have also gone inside the Dhobi Ghat (of course Mr. QuaintHeart took care of me). Then we continued our journey, standing at the gate of the train and letting the hot breeze ruffle our hair. It felt beautiful. It felt like a holiday. It felt as if I was in India for the very first time.
Then we continued further South to walk along Marine Drive. It has been many years since I walked there for the first time. That was in 2002 before they revamped it and created this beautiful sidewalk which is there today. We took a cab to Colaba and I did not bother haggling about the fare, I just sat there, pretended not to know that he took us for an entire tour of South Mumbai before finally entering Colaba Causeway. We got a bit lost there looking for a chocolate shop which is somewhere hidden near the Post Office, but when we could not locate it, we simply dashed off to the Taj and further to the Gateway of India.
Usually, I am so stuck in everyday life that there is no time for such frivolous adventures. I am too focused, too, not allowing myself to waste five minutes here and there. That is why it was so amazing to have N over.
Ahhh to walk down Colaba causeway looking for a chocolate shop. Would love to do that again!
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