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August 25, 2013

On my way home



Home can be found almost anywhere. All you have to do is try to “feel” at home.

I don’t like preaching emotionally charged proverbial decrees. I just tend to blab about things which I, in that particular period of time, believe is completely relative and relevant to ME. So maybe I’m a bit naive, I shamelessly belong to the ME generation after all. So, the start of my semester-long blogging activity starts with this rant of a post, about me and my life so far. Eventually and hopefully, as Clark injects itself into most of my being (Goodness!), I do hope this blog evolves into a record of a period in Clark itself. But again, these ambitions tend to clash with the starting wisdom claim. Going back to that, at this moment, I’m pretty much ready to call Clark my “home” too. After a year of selfish yet selfless European living and a whirlwind of emotionally charged perspectival mood swings, I cannot deny myself from agreeing with what I’ve initially said. Phew, what am I talking about? Well beyond the jib-jab, a story( albeit concise) follows…

I haven’t seen my parents in a year. I’ve almost forgotten about the hustle, bustle and heat that I associate with my motherland, India. Not that I’ve become indifferent to the very impassioned feeling of longing. I’ve just learned to be on my own. I left India almost a year ago and with it, I left most of what had been. I embraced leaving alone. A gap year alone can do much good in terms of erasing co-dependent familial mushiness. I stumbled across a few neo-nazis along the Berliner road, attended film festivals, met fascinating individuals and had my fair share of Euro-tripping. To add: visiting most of europe, teaching three Hungarian kids English, hiking across an island in Greece and to continue this would make quite a list. But yeah, it was pretty much a beatified journey to find myself. The art, music, literature and style I like now has but remnants of what I used to like a year ago. But what shocked me on and on, was feeling completely happy with being away from home. I had good friends, but I was still on my own most of the time. When things became too much of a drag, I would seek an exit with a simple, “Hey! I have to go home now.” But home was miles away in reality, I just called a Berlin dorm room or a Greek guest-apartment room my home. Which brings me back to my claim, I’m pretty much ready for Clark because I know I will eventually call it home too. Despite the unsettled pang of longing that sets in, for almost everyone who leaves a place of familiarity, you get accustomed to the place you get to. Maybe it will be the friends that I make, or the activities that I do, or just the plain coziness of my dorm bed. Without a doubt, I will go in to Clark with an assure sense of confidence. A confidence that stems not from independence but from a curiosity to meet new people, to make new friends and to call a new place: HOME!

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