Where’s my home?

People often tend to be reflections of their hometowns, or so I have heard, in this case, I am a gypsy. I belong no where. I go places, have my fun and run along to the next.

Being raised in Dubai, I never really understood the complexities and dangers of the world – it is a little bubble of a place after all! I eventually realized that though I found Dubai to be my home, Dubai would never consider me one of his, and I had to leave. Now he exists only in my memory, a someone to think of after I intoxicate myself. He was my longest relationship after all. The smell of his cologne that over powered the smell of his sweat after a hard day at work, his wide smile, perfectly blow dried hair that had been set with large amounts of hairspray, the branded clothes that drew attention to huge, chiseled arms- all would exist now only in my memory.

Kerala was my summertime fling. I visit her reluctantly every vacation and complain to her about how she is imperfect and nothing in comparison to Dubai, she listens to me and has no complains, she is just glad that I have come to visit. It is the same routine every year, I have fun with her for the first few days, until I realize the emptiness I feel when I’m with her. Kerala and I don’t belong together and perhaps she knew this before I did. I was incapable of anything with her, I couldn’t imagine myself being with her for the rest of my life and often caught myself thinking about others when with her. When I leave her by the end of the month, she smiles and says goodbye, she knows I’ll come back next vacation, she knows I’ll run into her arms, smell the jasmine flowers on her hair and the Medimix soap on her skin, Kerala, I cannot leave, I cannot avoid, she contains too many precious memories.

Bangalore was the arranged marriage. He offered me an education and so I accepted for my own sake. I found out in due time, to my surprise, that he had various interesting secrets, in every fold of his skin there existed a hidden story. He pulled me towards him with his food, conversations and opportunities but also turned me off slightly with his untidiness. But Bangalore is smart. He offered me something no other place could. He offered me freedom and made sure I was addicted. The freedom to experience life as a result of my own actions, to be able to think, question and have my own mental crisis’ – all in the hope of me becoming a strong, independent woman, that’s what he truly wishes for me. He counts on me to become great, he teaches me so much every day and I cannot wait to see how we will turn out.

I am a gypsy, I will run away when I sense that they want to hold me and keep me with them, I will collect stories and lessons from all of them and I will remember them for life, but I am sorry, I can never belong to any of them.

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