#whalesongs acts like travel isn’t a viable option

[whalesongsblog]

Sometimes I think about how the one thing I wanted as a child was to leave India and come to the States. My chosen field of study is sparse and practically nonexistent in my country, so the USA was my obvious choice to pursue a higher education. This country has given me opportunities I only dreamed about as a child and I’m so incredibly grateful.

But sometimes I find myself thinking about my home. The scent of warm air on a hot summers day in Mumbai, or the earthy rain during the monsoons. There was a cat that I’d watch from my bedroom window and draw, and a comedy club my mother and I visited in the evenings. I’d play Christmas carols on the piano even though Christmas was never really a big deal for us. But my mom loved hearing me play Silent Night while she watered the ridiculous number of plants in the apartment.

My boarding school in the foothills of the Western Himalayas (whalesongs crazy lore drop) was a little piece of paradise. All I knew were forests and mountains and air so fresh it almost hurt my throat to breathe. Through backpacking trips and nights out with my friends wandering the local cemetery, I saw night skies filled to the brim with stars.

And dare I say, sometimes I miss home. I miss India in all its insane, chaotic, vibrant mess. I’m so grateful to be where I am and there’s no place to be but here in the present, but I just find myself thinking about my country. I wouldn’t call it homesickness, because I love it here. I don’t know, maybe I just want to see the stars in my own country’s sky one more time.