A-musing gets a new life

I am writing from Brisbane, my new home for the next few years. Home has suddenly become an ambiguous term. My pen hovers uncertainly over the permanent address box. With permanence taking a long break, transience has become my reality.

The day we were moving out, our press-wala asks me – I heard you are leaving. Are you going back to your own desh?

A Bengali with no roots in West Bengal, I grew up in Delhi and spent the last eight years of my life in Gurgaon. The NCR is my desh and I’m now in videsh, feeling like an “Englishman in New York”. Taking in the unfamiliar faces and accents, straining to hear sounds of laughter, eyes caressing the beautiful river that runs through the city, hugging myself to keep warm as we take a midnight stroll without fear stalking our minds, a little worried that our streamlined, unchaotic existence in Brisbane will rob me off my inspiration to churn out satire....That I’ll no longer be able to work myself into an angered frenzy, spewing venom in the naive hope that my angst will miraculously change the world.

My organized mind feeds on the chaos that surrounds me.

The last few months, I have constantly been beseeched by the same question – so, how does it feel to be moving out? And my reaction was always the same. Silence. Because I had no words to describe the swirl of muddled up feelings. Of being unmoored from familiarity, anticipating alienation and loneliness, yet excited about a new innings in my life.

We never tire of complaining about the monotony of routine, but when change stares at us in the face, we are filled with confusion. Will I be able to make new friends? What if I don’t like it there! And most importantly, will I be inspired enough to write!

My blog is part of my life. I’d hate to let go of it so easily.

So, you will all have to put up with my transition, my mood swings as I search for a new identity.

We spent our Saturday with a lovely couple, their two dogs and a lazy cat, at their country home. Their house is a happy clutter, the kitchen counters overflowing with culinary experiments. They are grandparents but their sense of adventure is still intact. They grow their own fruits, vegetables, nuts and herbs, spending hours under the sun tending to them. Taking off for hikes with their pets and coexist happily with the wildlife that surrounds them. A kangaroo hopping past their gardens is everyday business for them. Gigantic spiders often take a pee break in their bathrooms.

It made me yearn for a life I’d be too scared to live.

It also made me realize that you have to let go to savour life that cannot be controlled.

P.S The Aussies can’t seem to get my name right. Suddenly I have become Swami Agnivesh’s favourite drink – Pee.