The Expat Diaries: Prologue

It had been months since I let the power of imagination guide me to paint and write.

I had forgotten what it was like because I got busy. Dealing with life, shifting, new responsibilities, being there for others. Doing my bit, and trying really hard to do it well.

On evening walks back home, I would stop to gaze at orange and pink hues across the sky – sometimes in awe, sometimes in nostalgia.

It was the same shade that had greeted me on my terrace back home.

Back there, I would look at the sky, watch a plane go by, and wonder when I’d get the chance to board one. And live a life that was all too vivid in my heart but yet to take shape in reality.

The sound of the bikes in the new city would bring me out of my reverie. The place I knew as home was now a memory, and the place I dreamt of was now a new home.

There are moments when everything still feels new, just like the first day I reached here. A feeling of ‘is this really my life’.

Thankfully, as time is passing by, the new is slowly becoming familiar. Like where to get the veggies, which place has the best detergent, which market sells second hand books.

And as I continue to settle in, I’ll try to do more of what I love. Because some things are never meant to fade. And expressing with words and art is one of them.

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Photo credit: Rachita Verma (that’s me)