Itsy Bitsy Teeny Meeny

Things that mean so much..

Today I went to the 'Indian store' for a few of my groceries which I wont get at the regular Walmart, HEB etc. Things which are an indispensable part of of my life and without which I am somehow, hopelessly incomplete. Society tea the good ol cutting chai variety as opposed to the dip dip sorry excuse for tea this coutry has. Basmati rice, Daal and Rajma! and yes, I have somehow begun cooking. The cycle of domestication is now complete. This can also go on my 'smart intelligent can cook girl' resume.

As I walked down the aisle surrounded by brands and colours and names I knew I felt oddly happy. Like I stole a few moments in a kirana shop back home. Parachute oil, Amul butter, Frooti, Rasna!! They looked like glistening little items of gold. I treated myself to buying vermicelli (sewiyan) which I know (think) I will make kheer out of. It was strange, an experience of strange longing in the midst of a decrepit little store that sold groceries, of all things. I walked past the biscuits aisle and found Britannia rusk break, a routine with Ma and I and chai each day of the three month vacation I had before leaving India.

I did not anticipate the glee I felt in picking up that packet of rusk biscuits and going back to a memory of having chai with my mom - one I wouldnt think twice about ordinarily cause it was such a mundane thing to do. As I tried explained my ecstatic initial reaction to my puzzled friend, my emotions changed from happiness to a slow realization of the fact that a) Im not buying it so I can go home and have chai with mom and b) its gonna be a full year and a half before I see her again ...and I teared up. It was a hollow feeling of really really wishing I could just do that one thing I did every single day, just once more.

It got funny after that - obviously a boy thinks the best way to get a girl to stop crying is to ask silly questions and distract her and hence post a few 'what is amchul powder made of' and other junk, Nikhil decides its time we head out. Only, when Im paying and stack the rusk on the counter it triggers off another 'Im not done feeling upset over this' reaction from me and a few tears make another appearance, to which poor frazzled Nikhil literally asks me if I want him to HIDE the packets! That obviously was more than enough to get me to crack up.

Its hard, living away. Im ordinarily so busy I dont have time to miss anyone much, heck I barely have time to sleep. But its when these little things remind you of where you came from and who you belong to that its time you take some time off and just dwell. I'm so absorbed in my new life all of a sudden, I dint have a weaning off period between home and now. Its perfectly ok to feel upset, and Im gonna spend some time just feeling what im feeling. Im sortof enjoying missing home and family and friends and Mumbai and reliving my favorite moments in this status.