Lemme begin with one of Seinfeld's bits(during one of his stand-up shows)
"You know, why we’re here? To be out, this is out…and out is one of the single most enjoyable experiences of life. People…did you ever hear people talking about “We should go out”? This is what they’re talking about…this whole thing, we’re all out now, no one is home. Not one person here is home, we’re all out! There are people trying to find us, they don’t know where we are. “Did you ring?, I can’t find him.” “Where did he go?” “He didn’t tell me where he was going”. He must have gone out. You wanna go out: you get ready, you pick out the clothes, right? You take the shower, you get all ready, get the cash, get your friends, the car, the spot, the reservation…There you’re staring around, what do you do? You go: “We gotta be getting back”. Once you’re out, you wanna get back! You wanna go to sleep, you wanna get up, you wanna go out again tomorrow, right? Where ever you are in life, it’s my feeling, you’ve gotta go."
Right from the time I started going to school, school was the 'out' for me. Once I'd get back from school, the routine would be to drink some Bournvita and rush 'out' to the playground. When it'd get dark, it was time to get back home, have supper and end the day. My life comprised of many such micro-cycles of "in and out", "to and fro" everyday. Every now and then, there would be the long vacation(once or twice a year) where we'd be 'out' for a couple of days or so, and then get back to the trivialities and banalities of daily life.
Once the uniform-days got over, by some freaky twist of fate(am yet to know whether it was for the better or worse), I ended up in a university that was 'far' from my place. I mean real far. My definition of 'far' took a real big change. Until then, I'd always crib that my coaching center was 45 mins from my place, was very 'far'. But this was a different 'far' (24 hrs by train). It was a 'far' from where you couldn't return home daily. A 'far' from where your parents could not keep a tab on what you were doing, a 'far' so far that no one in your earlier "world" could see or know of the antics you were up to, unless you told them yourself.
The power was with me. I could decide what to tell, when to tell, what to do and when to do. I was 'out', and it was totally on me to decide when all to get 'back' home from the 'out'. Initially, it was thrilling, having all that decision making power. 'The power to make your own destiny' as the wise fools put it. Planning a trip back home was never easy. The challenge was to combine the holidays with the non-volatile working days so as to minimize the effect of the wraths from the profs(estimating their tantrums and surprise quizzes) and also to not miss any important event in and around college(read: cultural/fashion/rock shows).
But there was always this urge to go home, to get a hero's welcome, to meet old pals, to catch up with the trends in the city, to attend those boring functions sporting the "sheepish constipated smiley look" all through and to get recharged by eating some gr8 home food. And then, it would be time to get 'back'...Back to the 'out' which had become the new 'in'. Hostel was the new home and the original home became the 'out'. I'd get back to college, all recharged and fresh, with my airbags filled with home food, all set to take on the world. But after sometime (read: 2 months or so), I'd find myself on the losing end of the battle, all drained out and all set to get back home.
But here's the other deal. Each time that you do come back home, you notice that things have changed. And if you've come back after a reasonably long time, then you're at sea unable to cope up with what's happening around. Slowly but surely, there's an alienation of sorts. You are treated more like a guest, offered all the comforts and liberties (unlike earlier, when you'd be accountable for each and everything) and you just can't help it. I remember the time in class 12 when I was lambasted for getting back an hour (or two) later than expected. A year later (in UG), when I did something similar, the response was radically different.
I've been oscillating "to-and-fro" between home and away for the last 7 years now, still not sure as to which is the 'home' and which is the 'away'. If it depends on just the quantum of time that one spends in a physical place, then it’s evident and elementary. But it’s not so simple. If you look at it qualitatively, the one week at home (the one with the parents + siblings) can be more worthwhile and create more memories than the 2 odd months in a hostel or at a PG accommodation.
On one end, I envy those buggers who get to stay at home all their lives, or at least get a job back in their home town (or close to it) after a brief hiatus away from home (for their UG or PG). But I consider myself luckier than those few who've left their homes for distant lands across the seven seas and cannot return home as and when they want to. The fact is, in this new westernized-India, moving away has become an integral part of our lifestyle. But our cultural and homely-roots keep pulling us back with almost as much force, time and again. I’m tired of this see-sawing. Is there no way out of this? Can't things be simpler....sigh !
"You know, why we’re here? To be out, this is out…and out is one of the single most enjoyable experiences of life. People…did you ever hear people talking about “We should go out”? This is what they’re talking about…this whole thing, we’re all out now, no one is home. Not one person here is home, we’re all out! There are people trying to find us, they don’t know where we are. “Did you ring?, I can’t find him.” “Where did he go?” “He didn’t tell me where he was going”. He must have gone out. You wanna go out: you get ready, you pick out the clothes, right? You take the shower, you get all ready, get the cash, get your friends, the car, the spot, the reservation…There you’re staring around, what do you do? You go: “We gotta be getting back”. Once you’re out, you wanna get back! You wanna go to sleep, you wanna get up, you wanna go out again tomorrow, right? Where ever you are in life, it’s my feeling, you’ve gotta go."
Right from the time I started going to school, school was the 'out' for me. Once I'd get back from school, the routine would be to drink some Bournvita and rush 'out' to the playground. When it'd get dark, it was time to get back home, have supper and end the day. My life comprised of many such micro-cycles of "in and out", "to and fro" everyday. Every now and then, there would be the long vacation(once or twice a year) where we'd be 'out' for a couple of days or so, and then get back to the trivialities and banalities of daily life.
Once the uniform-days got over, by some freaky twist of fate(am yet to know whether it was for the better or worse), I ended up in a university that was 'far' from my place. I mean real far. My definition of 'far' took a real big change. Until then, I'd always crib that my coaching center was 45 mins from my place, was very 'far'. But this was a different 'far' (24 hrs by train). It was a 'far' from where you couldn't return home daily. A 'far' from where your parents could not keep a tab on what you were doing, a 'far' so far that no one in your earlier "world" could see or know of the antics you were up to, unless you told them yourself.
The power was with me. I could decide what to tell, when to tell, what to do and when to do. I was 'out', and it was totally on me to decide when all to get 'back' home from the 'out'. Initially, it was thrilling, having all that decision making power. 'The power to make your own destiny' as the wise fools put it. Planning a trip back home was never easy. The challenge was to combine the holidays with the non-volatile working days so as to minimize the effect of the wraths from the profs(estimating their tantrums and surprise quizzes) and also to not miss any important event in and around college(read: cultural/fashion/rock shows).
But there was always this urge to go home, to get a hero's welcome, to meet old pals, to catch up with the trends in the city, to attend those boring functions sporting the "sheepish constipated smiley look" all through and to get recharged by eating some gr8 home food. And then, it would be time to get 'back'...Back to the 'out' which had become the new 'in'. Hostel was the new home and the original home became the 'out'. I'd get back to college, all recharged and fresh, with my airbags filled with home food, all set to take on the world. But after sometime (read: 2 months or so), I'd find myself on the losing end of the battle, all drained out and all set to get back home.
But here's the other deal. Each time that you do come back home, you notice that things have changed. And if you've come back after a reasonably long time, then you're at sea unable to cope up with what's happening around. Slowly but surely, there's an alienation of sorts. You are treated more like a guest, offered all the comforts and liberties (unlike earlier, when you'd be accountable for each and everything) and you just can't help it. I remember the time in class 12 when I was lambasted for getting back an hour (or two) later than expected. A year later (in UG), when I did something similar, the response was radically different.
I've been oscillating "to-and-fro" between home and away for the last 7 years now, still not sure as to which is the 'home' and which is the 'away'. If it depends on just the quantum of time that one spends in a physical place, then it’s evident and elementary. But it’s not so simple. If you look at it qualitatively, the one week at home (the one with the parents + siblings) can be more worthwhile and create more memories than the 2 odd months in a hostel or at a PG accommodation.
On one end, I envy those buggers who get to stay at home all their lives, or at least get a job back in their home town (or close to it) after a brief hiatus away from home (for their UG or PG). But I consider myself luckier than those few who've left their homes for distant lands across the seven seas and cannot return home as and when they want to. The fact is, in this new westernized-India, moving away has become an integral part of our lifestyle. But our cultural and homely-roots keep pulling us back with almost as much force, time and again. I’m tired of this see-sawing. Is there no way out of this? Can't things be simpler....sigh !
