There are just too many heartaches and nostalgic rushes when you have been at home in too many place. And I say this not for tourists but for people who travel to stay. If you know what I mean then you will surely understand what more I have to say.
So, there will always be this first initial discomfort with the place, the people, language, terrain, weather, food, and everything under the sun. All the new and the different and the 'oh so perfect' that you found so amusing only starts to feel unfamiliar. You'll tend to dislike things you thought were once cool. But you have to feel that and go through worse, only so you can overcome it. And once you have come close to leaving the place and turned back, then can you really be, really there.
One of my, one of kind friend once told me that ‘home is where the humour is’. Where people laugh with you, not at you. I find that profound. You might be able to get into a club in another country, order your drinks in their native language, but it is only when you can make them laugh at your joke is when you will really feel you have arrived. And you will choose to stay.
I always thought we settle because we get used to the place. Nothing bothers you anymore because it already has done its part. But it is not that, definitely not that, it is that you have finally learned to appreciate. You have been tamed in a way that you stop fighting it and start sensing it.
The problem is not about fitting in, it is the aftermath of it all. If you decide to stay then prepare yourself, you have subscribed to some serious future nostalgia of feelings. Memories like reminders on your smartphone will alarm and follow you once you have left that place and gone to another.
Running through these pristine parks here in Germany reminds me of my runs through the green yet polluted city of Delhi. How I felt I was doing more damage going outside for a run than sitting at home. Makes me grateful, yes, but reminds me that it is after all my home and I must return, do my part to fix it up.
The pink rhododendrons of Saxony-Anhalt stir up memories of the red ones in Sikkim. The strong himalayan winds in memory don't seem so harsh. Then the smell of freshly baked bread in Germany takes me three years back to the time where I worked near a bakery in Goa that would have my tummy rumble all day.
Its a lots of those little things that make the big impact. Those little things that make the heart yearn and long for those big moments in your life that are now in your journals or in my case in my work.
Some days I am in two different places in one moment and sense too many feelings at once. All these feelings rush into my blood stream like some wild memoir freshly released, it makes me jitter, but the good kind of jittery.