rs-forever's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Trading off. It seems like everything in life is a trade-off. In Bombay, we used to have a set of the World Book Encylopedia that my parents had bought it for Rs 10,000, which used to be equivalent to my father's salary each month. I would look at pictures of far away places, see the states in the United States and gasp at how beautiful fall colors were. When I would stand at the bus stop and look at the windows of the apartment we lived in. The idea of staying in the very same house all my life was suffocating. Sometimes my mother would be waving at me from the window, while she did the dishes, and then I would not think about this too much. If I did, I would feel guilty, because my parents did stay in this very same place for over twenty five years. I dreamed of far away, beautiful places. Now I am in a far-away, beautiful place. I have seen scenes which are so much prettier than the World Book pictures. I have seen the Fall colors from when they just started to appear, to when they were in peak and then when they started to Fall. I have seen winter when it first snowed. I have seen winter on days it snowed so much that we had a snow day. I have seen winter when the snow looks dirty and stays around until March. But now I crave for something I did not even know I would miss. I miss familiarity. I miss having people around me who know me since I was a baby. I miss having people around I have known since they were babies. I miss the familiarity of going to the same vegetable vendor, the same general store, the same super market, the same pharmacy, and having people smile at me because they know me, they know my family. I miss that comfort. I do not like how in this country people are indifferent to their neighbors. I do not like the breezy "Hi, How are you"s which are said with no emotion. Said like it is a statement, never a question. I do not like how people are oblivious to the presence of others in public transport. Like Hasan said, they turn their faces away very, very slowly. The only people who do talk to you are the crazies. Like a white Bahaii woman (being white an not a Christian or an atheist seems odd to me) who could not say my name right even after we corrected her multiple times. My name is easy. It isn't a name that is not found here already. She was very, very nice. But crazy :-/ I am such a bad girl to say that about her. I am going to get back to my Fault Tolerance project. I am done with writing the thesis, but I need to make corrections to it and present it to the committee asap. ~S. 4:38 p.m. - 2009-11-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||