It has been three years since I left home, three years of not belonging, three of sleepless nights and three years of missing India. I had left home with a dream so vivid that it filled up every void of my being, a dream that kept me awake at nights. The thing with dreams is they are only enjoyed during the process of their persuasion, not when finally achieved. As soon as I earned my first salary, a sense of peace filled me up, “This is it,I proved people wrong. I have achieved my dream.” But, this feeling of fulfillment did not last long. As the days passed by, a weird sense of longing planted its seed in my heart. As the days passed by this longing grew stronger and stronger until I felt homesick, until all I wanted was to go back home.
The Christmas has once again graced the streets of Florida. Dazzling lights and musical fountains were just a fantasy until I realized that this Christmas, all I want is to go back home, to breathe in the air that smells of nostalgia. This Christmas I want to eat Pav Bhaji while strolling by Chaupatti instead of having cheap booze in Miami. I want to get drunk and pass out on my best friends couch, pester my mom until she succumbs to my desire and cooks her world famous Biryani, steal cookies from my brother and laugh till my stomach hurts. This Christmas, all I ask for is to go back home, to feel like I belong to a land that resonates with my heart, for once and for all.