It has been a long, long day. Woke up really early, because implet feels that there way too many exciting things happening in the world to sleep beyond 5.30. I think my father must have fed such silly thoughts into his head..BAH! Been clearing out the kitchen. Threw a lot of random things together to make a meal..and it actually turned out well. Had to throw/donate a lot of good food items. The thing about food in the US is that everything is oversized. You can never buy small 100 gm or so packets of things. It is annoying because I don’t really need so much nutmeg, just on or maybe two to flavor my cakes, which I make maybe once in two-three months. I grate it onto a lot of things, but then there is only so much fresh nutmeg that you can take. Even food in restaurants are served in giant -ass plates. I usually end up bagging more than half the plate. The size of Coffee mugs and Ice-cream scoops is just so huge. Two alarming stats have come from this, one-US has the highest number of obese ppl, ppl who die from type II Diabetes in the developed world, and more alarmingly, more younger ppl , meaning ppl below the age of 40 dies of heart attacks. The other statistic, US has the highest number of ppl who go hungry every day or die of hunger in the developed world. Strange bedfellows.
Anyway, coming to the point of this post..It took us almost till late night to clean the whole place up and move into a hotel nearby. The tenets are supposed to come tomorrow early, so we figured, it would be easier to move out in the night. The sun set was gorgeous. Winter sky makes the setting sun much more colorful. Maybe it has to do with the how much the sun is welcomed in the cold. All I want to do now is sleep..cuddle up with my little implet, and warm my heart and soul with every breath of his.
How do you decide within a matter of hours or in some cases minutes, what you need to do to that scarf that you had saved for the past 10 years hoping there would be an absolutely beautiful occasion to wear it, or to the stack of paper you had saved for a possible research material when you do your Phd. Packing and moving is difficult I think. I have this vision of myself as a nomad living out of a backpack with a small storage unit or loft somewhere, that stores the best of my trips and small souvenirs, and then there is me here..lugging old jeans that don’t fit anymore, a candy that I picked up on a trip to the west coast, boxes of clothes and dozens of boxes of books and crockery. I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would become the person to scream at a piece of corning ware being packed without bubble-wrap and nestled in a cloud of shredded paper and yet I did.
The move has put a lot of things into perspective. It is making me reassess my life in so many ways and is making me question who I am. I have moved a lot, moved at the best of times and at the worst of times..and yet every move was in some way happening outside of me. I was an active part of it, and yet was nestled in this little bubble I created for myself and for the most part remained undisturbed. This one is dragging out so many things from inside the closet, that it is unsettling. I feel lost and alive at the same time. The hoarder, the perfectionist, the OCD personality, the planner have all taken a thump. Yet, I am persevering in some ways and am feeling defeated in others. It is going to be a long journey. There are days when I think about all the good that will come out of this move to India..and then there are days when I want to cling to the banister and refuse to let go and board that plane..I will figure it out. One day at a time.
It has been a lousy day of lousy proportions. I am still caught up in this image of how an ideal world of mine would have looked like and all the expectations that I set up for myself, expectations which bear more similarities to day dreams than any reality that is on the ground. The Other Fish in my Piscean world wants to escape into the glittering, shimmery surface where the sun kisses the water tripping to hug itself. The other fish wants to continue, where survival is ensured, where it knows it can breathe and where the dream of breathing might mean the end.
There are so many issues that my mind rakes up, about this impending move. The problem I realize is the lack of an absolutely clear direction. The boy is going on a prayer too, but he atleast has the bread crumbs that lead him to his gingerbread house. It is frustrating. The lack of viable options, the dearth of any good motivations except for “Family”. I love my family, I would give my arms and legs for them and ask “what else?” but I also realize that after all the fun..fun..fun of us moving back ends, the daily grind awaits and that is what I fear.
The implet is happy. There are boxes to play, old forgotten scraps of paper and cloth are pouring out. He is given a free reign to run around and climb as many stairs as he likes..he goes around laughing to himself and loving his little corner in the world. Like his father exclaimed “His smile is so much bigger than him”
I can’t believe it is December already. Most of the boxes are packed. My books were the first to be wrapped, bolstered and laid into sturdy double-lined boxes to wait and make a long journey. The corning wares went in next. Our extensive mug collection gently put in shredded material waiting for FRAGILE stickers. My golu bommai nesting amidst bubble wraps and papers and cloth. Every fear of mine is surfacing. Will the humidity destroy them? will there be water seepage? will it get lost? and yet here I am planning to make a long journey home. I have come to realize how difficult it is to pack a decade worth of memories and life’s little tidbits into a container. My biggest fear is that I might lose everything and will have no ability to tell my son what my life was like way before he brightened up my world. Hopefully everything will be alright. I hope, I pray, I sleep now.