Homesick

I'm homesick tonight. And I feel real lonely. 

I'm new to this city and the nights are especially hell. When everyone else sleeps, I'm wide awake, missing home. 

Of all the people in the world, I wish that my Grandma's still alive. She would've understood me. She'd probably brew for me her favourite Assam Tea (no milk/sugar) and serve me with chunks of jaggery. Pour it from her black-clayed kettle and ask me, "So what bothers you?"

We'd talk about her crazy collection of animals. Grandma had all kinds of pets, including at one point an elephant!! She'd never stop telling me about it. It started with her hosting a poor Nepali man and his elephant for a few weeks. And when the man needed to leave for Nepal, he left her his elephant as he couldn't bring him. Very mischievous elephant but Grandma adored him. Most fascinating story ever. 

Then I also remember us having all these kinds of pets - rabbits, ducks, chickens, guinea pigs, dogs, cats, catfishes, even pigs. There was this particular hen who was so protective of her chickens that she's always attacked me every day I came back from school. I had to shout for someone to accompany me from the gate to the house each time. 

Grandma made us plant lots of trees and fruits. We had our own tree, like mango, orange, grapefruit, pineapple, passion fruit, plum, bananas. 

There was one mango tree that refused to bear fruit for more than 10 years. One year I'd see Grandma flattering the tree, "Oh, you're a beautiful tree, how much more beautiful you'll be if you bear fruits" to the next year seeing Grandma holding an axe and threatening the tree, "I mean it this time, if you don't bear fruit this year, I will cut you down!" 

Strangely though, the tree started bearing fruits the summer after Grandma passed away. Maybe Grandma's spirit kicked the mango tree's spirit arse until it bore fruits. She was that passionate. 

I'm looking at my fridge in the middle of writing. This would so fail to impress Grandma. Huh..

She was the type of woman who ensured that there must always be extra food enough to feed 1 or 2 person all the time. She always made extra portions. Others would complain that it was too wasteful or extravagant. But she always said,"You never know when some hungry stranger or guest might just come in. There must always be something to feed them." 

When I was younger, I'd imagined my life in detail until I'd turned 30 years. Then Bam! I'd adopt a female child because I won't have found any good guy, and then Bam! I saw myself again at the age of 65 years old like Grandma, surrounded by my grandchildren and always being happy and smiling. I never envisioned my life between 30-65 years. 

So, the last time I missed home, it was my home and how simple my life had been in the mountains. I was close to nature. I woke up everyday with white clouds below me, covering the valleys below my home. I watched the young clouds flirted with the green forests below, as the heavier, older clouds watched scornfully from the sky. Hiked up the mountain top with my friends before dawn and counted wishing stars while we waited for sunrise. 

Laid and sunned ourselves on the rocks by the river after walking 4 hours straight down from the mountain to the valley below. And then went to the library, read books and wrote poems. 

Then I came to Delhi and hated it. And I told myself that I'd forever hate Delhi, that there wasn't a good thing there. And that, I'd be so happy to leave the city forever. 

This is my lesson yet again because now I miss my home in Delhi and my heart that walks the earth.