It’s a beautiful day. I stand in my balcony with a soft breeze caressing my stress away. The cacophony of traffic does not diminish the songs of multiple birds. The peocock, the bulbul, the koyal, those tiny birds I barely catch sight of - all enjoying their space, all voicing their own songs. All, in my opinion, being Hyderabadi.
Friends have asked me how I am happy when I stay away from my piece of heaven in Orlando. I miss everything and everyone at home there, and cannot even begin to put words for the gratitude I feel. But there is a different energizing peace here I cannot articulate.
There is an infectious joy in the energy of life here. This morning, I see children walking happily, and some unhappily, to school. I see my banana-seller wave to me as he pulls his cart away. The vegetable-seller increases the decibel of his sales-cry trying to catch my attention. Scooters meander on the road as they make way between moving and haphazardly-parked cars.
I think it is the human connection here, in my city, that is unique. It is not just the neighbor you know, it’s not just the family you love, it’s not just the friends you cannot live without. It is that traffic-cop who smiles back even at his thankless job, it is the onion-seller who puts two extra onions in your bag, it is the autowalla who nods an apology for almost taking out a headlight, it the valet at a restaurant who recognizes your very-ordinary car and runs to greet you. Then of course, there is the food. That is an entirely different topic. And could be the sole reason for anyone never to leave.
I know that, here, there is so much to improve, to clean, to fix. But there is also so much that never should change. And while I do long to be back home, I do need to be in my birthplace for a time too - just to remind me who I am.
