As i write this from the Tokyo airport in Japan, several emotions all bittersweet fleet through my mind. A good part of my twenties has been fragmented across two
continents – the Indian subcontinent and the North America. It all began in
2005, when I went to the USA as a student to pursue my MS in Madison, WI. The student years were immersed in
excitement, new exposures and experiences. Undoubtedly, those two years were
the best years of my youth making me independent in every way, and providing me
an opportunity to meet my future life partner. Every year I came home for the
winter break, bringing back boatload of gifts for my parents. Parting was
always hard, but I always knew that I was coming back next year, and as a
student I only thought about an year ahead at a time. Life gradually changed
with a job in San Jose, and eventually getting married to my grad school sweetheart
Bharath. Marriage is the beginning of a new chapter in life, but in our
case it was a bit different since we are from two very different and distant parts of
India. Every India trip I made after our wedding is spent between Delhi and
Chennai. So, in the end I spend about 5 days with my hubby and the remaining
days of my vacation with my parents and brother in Delhi.
The contrast of my life between USA and India is so
striking that I feel that I am living two completely different lives. In the US, my life is centered around my hubby, school, work and friends.
Weekdays are so busy, that Bharath and I sometimes don’t even spend an hour
together. Weekends are better, and we try to spend some time together. I am
usually chasing something when in the US- work deadlines, school deadlines and
grades, events – in short personal goals and experiences. Sometimes it feels,
that it is all centered around me. Once I land in India for 3 weeks of an year,
I am just with my parents and brother for the most part of the trip, and that’s
when reality hits. There is no school, homework, or photography – there is family whose lifestyle and health is deteriorating,
and the imperfections of a developing world. The first few days go off in whining,
and then the heart sinks into India. The clock turns back to the time when we
were a nuclear family, taking care of each other, and with me being the most
enthusiastic person in the family pushing every one to try new things, go to new
places and live life to the fullest. It almost seems like a state of temporary amnesia
of the past 11 months in the developed world of America. I feel responsible and
accountable for all the miseries, and lifestyle of my family. Maybe it is too
much burden to take, but the heart is overly emotional when you spend just 3 weeks
of an year with your family, and it just seems yesterday when you were with
them living your life, and being a part of their diurnal life and vice versa. Growing
up is bittersweet: you gain independence, exposure and experiences but at the
same time you need to leave your loving nest.
Over the years, parting after living this second life in India,
which is agnostic of the life in the US, has been getting hard. I am in a
position where I feel I have two brains, two hearts wanting two different
things, and two lives with two sets of different people. In a nutshell, I am living a split personality.
Airports are my spiritual place, waiting at the airports gives me a false sense
of not looking too far ahead, and worrying only about the next flight to catch.
This temporary feeling of transit is beautiful, and makes you forget all the
worries and concerns overwhelming you. Maybe thats how life needs to be lived - in a moment, instead of carrying the burdens of the past and the future- but thats easier said than done. Everything comes at a price - so does being an NRI.
