To everyone back home— to Mom, Dad, my younger brother, all my friends and family.
I know you were worried about me, when I left Hyderabad for Sonipat, my comfy room for a dorm, a four-hour long travel away from home. I remember how you put those worries aside to make sure I didn’t notice the fears creeping into your eyes- you masked them with advice and anecdotes from your college days. And under all those fears, your unconditional, unending belief in me. You were, are, and will always be my biggest supporters, my protectors. My family, my constants, my world— everything I’ve ever known, and everything I could’ve needed.
I remember how my parents would call to make sure I had all my meals, and ask, “Tu khush hai na beta? Sab accha chal raha hai?” and my younger brother would listen to me talk about my classes. I remember dadu, dadi, nani, all my uncles and cousins checking up on me, and my friends promising, ‘Bro, anytime you miss us, we’re just a call away— call kardena, we’re always here.’
In the first week, with the adrenaline coursing through me, the excitement and tiring days of the different events of orientation, it was easy to say, ‘Haan, mein theek hu, sab boot accha chal raha hai. I love college!’ Lucky enough to have found my friend group in a batch group of 800 people, I was never alone. It hadn’t hit me, in that week, that I was so far away from home.
Some days later, a bout of freshers flu forcing me alone into my bed, the knowledge hit me like a truck. I wished to be home with a steaming bowl of Mumma’s dal-chawal, and missed my dad who’d discuss articles and papers with me, who I’d seek advice from. I thought, miserably alone, ‘Papa yeh kar dete.’ I wanted to step out of my room and watch TV with my brother, fighting over the remote. I wanted to see my friends, and show them all that I’d seen away at college that reminded me of them, and laugh at all our inside jokes together. And on those days, I called home, trying to mask the tears threatening to spill, hiding the quiver in my voice— though I’m sure you knew.
Somewhere along the way, that feeling reduced. This homesickness stopped overpowering my feelings. This campus started feeling like my life, and not simply a vacation. A major part of that was my friends here, the slow, learnt familiarity that forged a shared bond.
From coffee runs and ‘Do you wanna go to the mess and grab some food?’, to learning (and now, knowing) each others’ coffee orders and favorite meals at all the different outlets on campus, we connected. From selecting our courses together, and library hangouts, to our first Murthal run for parathas and long conversations in the football field, we learned about each other’s interests and qualities. From them checking my interview results for me, and reacting to my grades before I even saw them, and hugging me in elation when I aced an exam or got selected for a position— I felt unbelievably supported. From them noticing the slightest changes in my mood, asking ‘Theek hai?’ and saying ‘Gossip de’, only to hear me talk about the same people over and over, making the silliest of jokes that have now become ‘ours’, we clicked. Trips to Delhi- from shopping in Sarojini & Connaught Place, to the inside jokes we created, to even the metro rides – I made some of my favorite memories of this time at college. From them picking me up at the gate after a trip home, and cooking together, buying each other gifts that remind us of each other, the excitement to see them and be with them would brim over.
Somewhere along the way, we forged a friendship, and they learnt to know me like the back of their hands, better than I could’ve ever expected. And somehow, that made me feel more complete, more whole here, away from all I’d ever loved and known.
On my birthday, the day I should’ve felt it the most, being away from home didn’t overwhelm me. A pre-birthday dessert tiramisu from a friend, over dinner cooked from things we could grab at the tuck shop, my nervousness surrounding my birthday ended. Sharing the biryani my family bought from home when they visited with my friends the night before my birthday, I felt at peace. And finally, cutting the cakes sent by my parents and friends back home in a room my friends here decorated, with the warm fairy lights twinkling, and beautiful handmade cards and gifts, I may have had one of the best birthdays of my life.
Heading home for Diwali, I watched my friends on campus create their own traditions, dressing up in saris, card games, to the kheer at the mess, and them exploring the different tourist sights in Delhi. I heard tales also of my friends’ Diwalis at home over call late at night when I was home, spent making rangolis and eating homemade, yummy sweets. I told them about the card games I played with my friends, the crackers I’d burst, the food my mom made. I brought them a piece of Diwali at home, the sweets and brownies my mom baked, and smiled at how their faces lit up and every time they said, ‘Aunty ko bolna bahut accha hai!’
I think, now, I really can say, ‘Haan, mein khush hu, sab theek hai!’ — a half-hearted lie I had only repeated dryly before. In fact, I can even say that I am better than theek. I still miss you, I still miss home, but I know you’re just a call away, I know I’ll be back before I know it. “Home is where the heart is”- a piece of my heart is here, in Sonipat, and a piece there, in Hyderabad, where I left it with you. Could I have two homes? Could this be home?
I’m not sure, and I doubt I will be soon, but all I know is that I am home now, but I will come back home soon, too.