Monday, 22 November 2010

On the comforts of home

There is nothing like being home. It is the best feeling in the world (at least for me). I might sound spoilt here, but it feels good to have tasty food instead of the bland goo that they provide in our hostel, and it is absolute bliss when you can type a post and enter it in without the internet connection going haywire. It is lovely to have world cinemas (UTV) and TV sitcoms at the flick of a channel. It is nice to sit and do absolutely nothing if you choose to, instead of submitting a million assignments and studying for useless examinations, from which you learn something below nothing.
That said, it also feels nice to have time to think about papers that you do want to write up, and plan out the number of places you need to go to get things done. It feels refreshing to have my white-board, instead of the flimsy post-its that attempted to solve the clutter in my mind (which they did)- and contrary to what some people might think, I actually do write in a large font on the board. It feels nice not to feel the swing of heat and cold that Hyderabad has been throwing at me for the past month or so.
On the other hand, I still feel like a hybrid between two places, what with half my books there and half of them here! I wanted to check something in this play called Fire and the Rain by Girish Karnad, but I couldn't because, to my exasperation, I had left the book there, in campus. I miss the wings that my cycle offered me, and am now cluttered by the noises that a city offers.
Am I becoming a neither-here-nor-there person? I wouldn't like that. But with Tamizh, and a limited Telugu, I have become an in-between person. Maybe that isn't a bad thing, but there is a side of me that wants to be complete, though I am nothing but fragmented. I want to be nothing but the comfort of home, though I am but a traveller through the empires of time-space.

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