My days in Erie had finally come to an end. I was on a flight back to my country and all through the journey I was mostly silent. I'm not too much of a talker on flights, I prefer keeping to myself, reading a book, watching a movie or simply calling it a night (all the time). One of the things I loved doing was watching the maps and tracing the course we were taking, over the many cities, countries and mostly an ocean beneath us, it was mesmerizing to watch. A random thought just flew through my mind. Millions of people beneath us were going through their every day lives and here I was, moving countries for good. It's almost as if I am inconsequential to the world, but then I remembered, my entire family was waiting for me, tracking my flight! I made a world of difference to them.
Speaking of maps, I've not had the best of luck with maps, I am however good with directions. So it is much easier for me to drive with you than to be the one helping you on the phone, I swear I've been lost more than I care to admit. But lost as I may be, I've always found my way back home. Literally and metaphorically. I remember home like an X mark. In books we read as kids, they would always say X marks the spot where all the treasure is hidden.
When I think about home, about India, about moving back I have nothing but a good and happy feeling. I was going to be back. Among familiarity. Among friends. Among family. I was going to take on a new adventure. I was going to wake up to people being in the same time zone as me. I could go out for walks as I pleased. It was going to be hot as hell and I was going to love it. X marks the spot where I learned a million things, from taking my first steps as a child to being a grown woman. X marks the spot that made me who I am. X marks the spot that gave me the personality I have, the tastes I have.
I often used to wonder, what if I was born in another country, another era? I can't imagine that I would be the same person; even remotely. I'd have a different set of traits all together. But being in India, being Indian was what makes me, me. There are so many things that I am still in awe of. The culture, architecture, the progress we made,(unfortunately the regressive aspects feature in as well).
Touching India and being back at Bangalore airport, spotting an Indian toilet with a bidet, the smell of sambar wafting through the airport, flute being played, aunties too tired from the flight dragging themselves through the airport, couples kissing after being reunited, some being super lovey-dovey as they were going on their honeymoon. Such a rich variety of stories, right there. I was in awe, yet again. I remember distinctly, the sight of the Indian flag, ah! goosebumps. I was home. But then, I also left a home behind. I realised, we are loud, colourful and chaotic and we thrive in it. Like they say around these quarters - We are like that only. We're we for where we grow up and X marks that spot.