Wandering scribbler..

'All happy families are alike, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.' When Velma first read Anna Karenina this line remained stuck in her mind for a very long time. If one quote could describe how she felt about growing up this would be it. While discussing with her friends about their families she realized how starkly different her family was. Their mothers didn’t cry almost every night like her mother. Her childhood was lost in wiping cold tears sometimes her own, sometimes her mother's. And then she grew up and tried to hide the darkness of a lost childhood Adulting is hard, they said But not as hard as being a helpless and scared child.

I have almost stopped blogging.  It’s not that I have nothing to say, just that so much of effort goes into mulling over the whole thing. Laziness gets the better of me. For a very long time, one thought has been on my mind, but somehow I haven't yet put it into words. Why do we lose friends? I am a person who has a countable number of friends who I have loved dearly.  Friends, friendship are familiar words but sometimes I wonder if people understand the weight of these words enough to live the meaning of those words. In this day and age posting pictures of your circle and tagging each other in memes is a sign of great friendship. But what about being there for each other? Trusting each other to important facts and events of your life? What happened to being witness to their low moments and holding them up when they need it? In retrospect maybe friendship has a different meaning for different people. And maybe different people show their friendship in different ways....

I was 6 years old when I suddenly developed this habit of cracking silly jokes to make my classmates laugh. I loved to see them laugh, it would make me feel better as this was when my life revolved around personal tragedies of sorts.  A few months later my mother was informed about my habit of turning every situation into a joke and I watched as she cried her eyes out and created a ruckus about this as if it was a grave mistake.  After that day I gave up my defense mechanism.  I became a person who was always bruised by familial tragedies. Sometimes a lot more than anyone else in my family.

It is going to be two years that I moved to Calgary. This place has given me a new identity. A lot has changed in these two years. Things that will take a lifetime of catching up to do. I have my own place now, rented but my own. I have been responsible and irresponsible not in the same order though. I have held myself together in times of crisis and fallen apart at other times. These two years have seen the very best and the worst of me. I haven't written much during this time except for a letter which reached the recipient after 3 long months. The joy of posting a letter for the first time in many years felt wonderful.

We love and make promises of forever and after. We take risks and build a life together, brick by brick, blood sweat and tears. Years turn into decades. One summer afternoon, you come back home and realise that everything is the same but something isn't.  Love has slipped away without warning. But this was supposed to be forever,wasn't it? The home you built has become just 4 walls and a roof where you stay with a stranger. Was life supposed to end up like this? Where do you go when you've lost your home?

I got my passport on 25th August exactly 6 days before my scheduled date of travel to Canada. I had already started thinking of all possible scenarios like my VISA being refused and spending this year crying in bed. But when I received the study permit letter from the Canadian government, I was so relieved. The next few days went by in the blink of an eye. I bought two big suitcases and packed 23 years of my life inside them. Leaving home isn't easy when you are not yet prepared to be an adult.  The day before my departure the handle of my big American Tourister hardcase suitcase came off. I had to run to the mall which is about 26 kms from my home and get it repaired, I returned home around 8 pm. I couldn't sleep that night with excitement and stress thinking 'now what?'. My dad had rented an Ola cab which would take us from our house to the airport. While we were halfway near the airport when a burning smell started coming from the clutch of the car. I was just p...