When I am not waiting to check out..

The suitcase is finally unpacked and will go back to where It needs to be . Up on the attic in a rickety old corner with no alluring promises of a trip back home.  With no invitations to travel back in time, and no slipping back into the world where I am waiting. Waiting for a whiff of familiarity, waiting  for a glimpse of life that’s passed by, waiting for a smile that warms up the corners of my heart. The day finally dawned and I found it in me to unpack the suitcase that had been gracing the corner of my bed room.  As long as it lay there, I could not bid good bye to Hyderabad and the fragile illusion I created in my being, that someday  I will check out of this temporary abode and I will return to the life that I have known.

I have resisted Bengaluru with every neuron of my body  and I reckon,  treating my current abode like a hotel room, where in, I spend every day waiting for the check out to happen.  As long as I was working, the transit here  was a means to a living, and the weekends were those escapes into travel, entertainment and shopping . Everything felt surreal and we  definitely  felt like we were living a life that was borrowed and strange,  trying to be slaves to routine and being the superficial,mechanical beings that we are not . After the infamous resignation  and subsequent moaning , the existential crisis  stretched over a period of two months. Two long months of  endless conversations on dealing with change, hating the fact that I was chosen to deal with living  with a boy 24/7, dealing with sheer loneliness and disappointment. My neurons have finally snapped and  screamed, Enough is enough.. So after struggling to hold on to that illusion for as long as I could, I  give up . And I realise that resistance is futile and its time I embrace change.

And I caught myself warming up to Bengaluru, consciously and subconsciously, Subconscious I say, because DH made this observation this morning, of how soundly I sleep these days ,of the snores that disturb his sleep ( now that’s a new record that I have broken) .  As petty as it may seem, but little things define life for me, where I spend those quiet weekends with DH doing his own thing of spending time with the love of his life, the idiot box, and I am doing my writing, reading or cooking.  And through it all , I don’t seem to be resenting  or waiting for anything to change , or planning great escapes. Sheer bliss and true content, which I crave for , like oxygen in my life.

This is as real as my life can get and I am happy, happy  finding those nooks and corners to procure my chicken and fish, happy acknowledging the maids existence and taking an interest in her life after months of treating her as the butler of the day. Of finally finding a gardener who is as passionate about my babies as I am. Of finding  an outlet which expands my mental horizons , gets me pumped up enough to leave the confines of my house and keeps me challenged enough.Where I don’t feel like I am fighting a losing battle  and I am not entirely a stranger to my own life.So  Bengaluru, here is me, all wise and ready, to embrace you and empty a place in my heart for you to fill it with new memories and brand new paths to tread.


About Thumbelina81
A dreamer lost in this world. Part time Writer, Part time Gardener, A full time wife.

2 Responses to When I am not waiting to check out..

  1. Gowri says:

    I sense a hope , I feel a warmth….


  2. Tumpi says:

    my one cent – when you open up to a city…it more than often reciprocates and accept you…so have fun. love bengalore….missing you babe and cant wait to see you

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