I cannot begin to describe how much I miss home. How much, I miss just hanging out with my family and friends and talking about irrelevant stuff. It has been so long since I just sat in the comfort of my home and watched television with my sister and fight over remote, it has been too long since I slept hugging Papa's bit tummy. I miss my grandmother waking my up every morning just to ask me what I wanted to eat, even if it is just 6 in the morning or how Grandpa would just watch news the whole the day, trying to surf channels just to find something interesting on T.V. and my dog getting restless because she wants to do her business.
It is so hard sometimes to be so far away from family. I miss India. The peculiar smell of pollution, dust and curry which I grew up with. The noise of pressure cooker coming every evening, from every house. The aromatic smell of incense when Dadi does pooja, or the loud voices we all Indians talk in. I miss sometimes the absurd freedom of traffic...the honking which never stops even at night. I miss how all the neighbours come and visit you even if you don't want them to, or how sometime Papa would take us to India gate for 2 rupees ice cream all the way from Noida or how my sister and I would fight over dresses or anything at all. I miss seeing Dimpi stare herself for hours in the mirror and never get tired of looking herself in the mirror or how my Grandmother would be walking around the house doing her chores. I miss the calm face of my grandpa on which his whole life is etched and how much time he takes to complete a sentence or how Papa would touch my forehead when I am sick. I miss you all so much.
I wish I was there, it is my home and always will be. I just want to tell you all I love so much, you all made me, me.
How far I have come, too far.
It is so hard sometimes to be so far away from family. I miss India. The peculiar smell of pollution, dust and curry which I grew up with. The noise of pressure cooker coming every evening, from every house. The aromatic smell of incense when Dadi does pooja, or the loud voices we all Indians talk in. I miss sometimes the absurd freedom of traffic...the honking which never stops even at night. I miss how all the neighbours come and visit you even if you don't want them to, or how sometime Papa would take us to India gate for 2 rupees ice cream all the way from Noida or how my sister and I would fight over dresses or anything at all. I miss seeing Dimpi stare herself for hours in the mirror and never get tired of looking herself in the mirror or how my Grandmother would be walking around the house doing her chores. I miss the calm face of my grandpa on which his whole life is etched and how much time he takes to complete a sentence or how Papa would touch my forehead when I am sick. I miss you all so much.
I wish I was there, it is my home and always will be. I just want to tell you all I love so much, you all made me, me.
How far I have come, too far.
