Home away from Home

So I picked up to phone today and called a number of people who I have missed dearly since I moved back to Kuwait. Many were busy in meetings or lectures, but the few that I did manage to talk to left me nostalgic.

There was the long conversation with Professor Susan and that made me realized just how much I miss her voice. One that was somewhere between affirmation and compassion. She could read an entire yellow pages and manage to hold me captive with every word.

The next call was to Dr. Marie; much of the conversation was related to work and what I was currently doing with my life. But her voice took me back to a place of comfort. A place where I felt I could fully shine without the fear of being judged. It took me home.

What I know for sure is that "Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning."

Between all the traveling, I never did realize that I made Mumbai home too. A part of me was so afraid to admit that I liked it there for the fear that I would never want to return back home. Not that I like Kuwait any less now. But I guess I have become nomadic. I can stay here for months and miss the smell of rain or the independence of picking my bag and heading to Nickolai's or Brynelle's or just going to the garden with Chintan. I can stay a while in Mumbai and miss the walks on the Marina Promenade, the shopping at Zara's and H&M, the food at Johnny Rockets.  I guess what I also know for sure is that home is where the heart is. There’s a sense of belongingness that I now feel in Mumbai. One that won’t fade easily. One that has more to do with the people that constitute it and their voices than the place itself. Voices that believe me. Voices that manage to tell me at the end of a hard day at work that I am born for greater things. Voices that assure me that this is just the start of my yellow brick road.