Cast Away

Often in India I see a single parent walking with their child. The sight reminds me of my grandmother who raised me as a child. Filled with energy I used to hold her hand with my eyes attempting to understand my surroundings. Her presence made my childhood beautiful and like any other child, I used to love listening to her stories. My constant dream was for a story that was long and never ended. As I grew up she used to always save for some book that I wanted to buy and read. Her day began at 4:30am to prepare food and waking me up in the cold of 5:30am. This cycle was followed for the first 14 years of my life. Nothing would make me more happy than going home in the afternoon. Since she has passed, I have been through so many places but never once that felt like home, and even if it did it was very temporary. From time to time tears well up in my eyes and I feel overwhelmed. Than I thank her for everything and smile. If nothing else this smile that hides it all, is now my trademark.

There is a telling early scene in the film "Guide". The protaganist Raju, who once a successful tourist guide loved by all, hesitates to return to his hometown of Udaipur after his release from jail as he is unsure about the crowd he will face in his hometown and decides to search for his fortunes elsewhere. After many tears shed he ends up helping another community that needs him, but is unable to return home as death takes him away.

It seems that all of life at some level is about coming home. From the transient consultant and diplomats, to workers, students, and animals. everyone goes back to their home. I remember the airport filled with the restless hearts waiting to go home. It is hard to describe what I feel like now. Standing in Canada, I feel like I am standing in a empty open desert with no idea where I am walking towards. There is heaviness of my legs as the figurative sand envelops them with every step and my shouts disappear into the wind. I feel very small as I wonder how far away my home can be.

Among its many definitions the dictionary also defines home as a place of origin, and a goal or destination. Perhaps the distance is only in my mind. As Dante put it "Midway in human life's allotted span, I found myself in a dark wood, where the straight path I sought in vain". I am sure that eventually I will find the right path, for that is the journey. Having survived countless trysts with danger in India, I have returned to Canada. However the feeling is as if I have floated in a life raft to a deserted island. Am I being too pessimistic? I doubt it, as the season that started when I left has now ended, the university year is over and everything seems different. Accustomed after eight months to certain ideals I found myself in India in a world without the schedules of Canada. This is all the more depressing since before leaving here it almost beginning to feel like home.

I find myself sitting by my computer looking at my friends pictures from the summer. I ask myself when they were taken and realize it was from events that I could not attend because of my work in India. I sigh and reflect that there are so many missed moments because of my work, and my mind oscillates between all the children I have been able to help and the things I have missed out in Canada.

I had come to Canada eight months before leaving to India to make a life and a home. In this time some opportunities seems to have passed me by, while I have gained so much from another. How they will hold up only time will tell. My journey was also of an idealist person who believed that if he stays on his path, happiness will come to both him and the things he strives for. Like Raju I too look at the road ahead and keep walking with a smile.