Diaspora blues…

“The same boiling water that softens the potato hardens the egg. It’s about what you’re made of, not the circumstances.”

From past few days I have been thinking what to write about. There are so many things yet to share and so many procedures yet to be covered and still, there I am discontented. 2 days ago I realized why. It is because of diaspora blues. I came across this word few months ago and found it really fascinating. Little did I know how it really felt.

For all those who’s ears find this word unfamiliar (just like me), well let me first give you a gist of what it means. Basically when one belongs to one place (native/ place you have born or brought up) and then you move to another place for studies or work. After few months or years comes a stage where you find yourself foreign to where you come from and also foreign to place you presently live in. And this is when think you are lost and sometimes don’t belong anywhere.

Having said that, each and every person reading this who lives away from home or hometown for your job or study purpose would have definitely gone through this at least for a few days. I have been feeling it past few weeks. No, it isn’t because I miss family all of a sudden. I miss them each day since the time I moved here. No, it isn’t a surprise to me anymore that I am in a foreign land where I try each day to fit-in. Feel like home. Make some memories and friends for life. Meet new people and try to understand them even 5%.

Recently, I received a picture in the family whatsapp group and the title said ‚Bus on fire‘. I got scared and immediately checked the pic. It was captioned‚ Charu’s school bus since 1991‘ and there was a picture of my yellow school bus that I played with all my childhood kept on the stove that was off. I don’t know if it was just my reaction immediately after waking up on Saturday morning or it was a long time since I had read something like this from papa but I laughed at it for few minutes straight and then replied.

That took me back to some memories. Along with the bus photo, there were photos of Diwali decorations that I once bought with mumma papa. And there were toys that my brother and I played all our childhood and then there were selfies that papa was taking while my brother made annoyed faces. I just started thinking about the last time I had celebrated something. The way I used to.

The only thing that came to my mind was last Christmas when my friends and I decorated Christmas tree. Exchanged presents. And took lots of pictures. But, on the day of Christmas we did nothing special. Everyone else was back at their homes celebrating Christmas while we sat at home wondering what to watch and eat that day.

This makes me realize that not only have I stopped celebrating my own festivals but we are trying to celebrate festivals that are native to this place and yet not doing anything. Of course we don’t really celebrate Christmas but you get the flow right?

My inter-connected to everything brain then took me back more into the time. I started seeing all photos from home and family functions and school photos (that reminds me how silly I was (am)). And then all the photos from the time I came here.

As much as I love living here, I do miss home. We all do. And as much as I love home, I felt the last time I was there, I don’t fit into that society anymore. Vacations are fine, but when it comes to living and working living at home, with family, it’s somehow not possible. Not easily at least.

There is something about finding yourself in solitude. It helps you discover you and at the same time you lose yourself. You can create your identity in the new place and lose yourself in the old one.

Papa always told me that everything that is worth it, doesn’t come easy. You only see the fruits of a tree after years of yielding. And everything until then can be hard, it needs details and sometimes the weather might tear you down. But, if you need fruits, keep working towards it and you will remember me then.

My journey has begun and I am in midst of it. Where will it finally reach and what happens in years to come is unknown. But I shall not stop believing. Believing that it’s all gonna be worth it.

If you too live by yourself and do feel diaspora blues once in a while, well, just know that you are not alone. This phase makes you stronger and teaches one where you belong.

Life isn’t all bed of roses. And life is never gonna be all stable. There will always be something or other. Just depends on whether you allow it to break you or harden you.

If you feel the same or can relate, do leave your comments below and share it with many more 🙂 Thank you! 🙂