The taste of home

On 5th October 2000, my mom and I traveled by air for the first time ever, leaving behind Nagercoil, a beautiful little town in the south of India and landed in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, a city on the west coast of the country which also happens to be the fourth largest city in all of the Arab world. As I looked down through the windows on the plane shortly before landing, my heart sank at the sight of the city surrounded by the dusty, dry desert below. Things did not change much once we left the airport. For a 6 year old me, the fear of getting used to an entirely new country and unfamiliar faces, was growing by the minute. In spite of the growing fear, I was drinking in the sights of the city outside the car window - the tall buildings, the flyovers, the signboards in Arabic, the lights that were being turned on as it grew darker and the absence of greenery. I didn't anticipate it then but in the years to come, that unfamiliar city became more beloved to me than any other place; it became the city that still holds some of my most precious memories; it became the city that watched me grow up and become my own person; it became home. But, on that day and in the couple of years that followed, I was still coming to terms with accepting this place as my new home. However, what I immediately liked about Jeddah, was Al Baik.

For the first half of the year after we moved to Jeddah, one of my dad's closest friends, his wife and their little daughter were the ones who showed me around the city and helped me feel comfortable there. I have spent hours in their car, listening to them share stories about the places we drove by. During one such car ride, I pointed to the store with a bright sign - red in the background and yellow letters that spelled "Al Baik" in Arabic and English, a sign I had seen in multiple places around the city and asked "What is this place? And why is it always so crowded?". That is when they introduced me to what went on to become an integral part of my growing up years (believe me, I'm not exaggerating)!

Al Baik, dear readers, sold the most amazing broasted chicken you would find anywhere in the world (and I say this with absolute conviction). The golden brown chicken with a crispy crust (that can be eaten all by itself) and tender meat beneath, accompanied by fries that taste different from fries I've had before or since, sesame topped bun and garlic sauce, was the meal of choice for most residents of Jeddah. The broasted chicken and garlic sauce form a pair that could only be described as a match made in heaven (I usually stay away from cliches, but there's no other way to explain the perfect combination of Al Baik chicken and garlic sauce). In the year 2000, Al Baik came in two sizes - 4 pieces and 8 pieces of chicken (with accompaniments), sold for SAR 10 (about $3) and SAR 20 (about $6) respectively. The quantity, quality, taste and affordability of Al Baik made it the national (or its equivalent for a city) food of Jeddah. The first time I went to a branch of Al Baik with my dad, I found the place packed with people, and even though I didn't realize it then, extremely efficient staff! With Al Baik, it always is love at first bite!

In the years to come, the franchise expanded. They opened new branches in other western Saudi cities and added to their menu - chicken nuggets, chicken nugget sandwiches, broasted shrimp and a variety of accompaniments. But the taste remained constant and so did the quality. Al Baik has been part of celebrations throughout my 11 years in Jeddah. The most memorable of them are the yearly parties we had in our school bus. We'd collect money from every kid in the bus and pass them on to the bus driver with a list of items to buy. Later in the afternoon, right before he leaves for the school to come pick us up, he'd stop by at a nearby Al Baik and buy the items on the list (usually sandwiches). Us older kids in the bus would leave from class early that afternoon, rush to the bus and make sure that everyone got their food and that we had a concrete plan to have the party be as mess free as possible and to leave the bus as clean as it was that morning. We'd then spend the rest of the bus ride talking, singing and enjoying the food. Similarly, Al Baik has been a part of many, many memories from my time in Jeddah. It was what we ate on arrival in Jeddah after long and tiring flights, when we were famished after performing Umrah (a pilgrimage to Makkah, that can be undertaken at any time of the year), when unexpected guests arrived and when family and friends visited Jeddah for the first time.

It has been six years since I moved away from Jeddah. But every time I visit, on my list of things I'm excited for, Al Baik comes second only to meeting family. My dad makes sure to buy Al Baik for dinner on the day of my arrival and even 17 years later, the taste hasn't changed a bit! After spending all these years away from Jeddah, the taste of Al Baik always manages to bring back a sense of familiarity, comfort and nostalgia!

Defining life by the fleeting glimpses of happiness

“But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play− I tell you, Dorian, that it is on things like these that our lives depend.”   −The Picture Of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde

I went through a phase in my adolescent years when I thought that every good thing that happened in my life would be followed by an unpleasant experience, and vice versa. Back then, what I considered to be good experiences were a small set of happenings. Now that I think about it, that small set consisted entirely of materialistic things. It took me a while to identify and appreciate the little things that put a smile on my face and brought me small bouts of happiness. These little things happened every day, even on the most ordinary of days. They taught me that happiness is not that expensive. We look for happiness in big, rare and expensive things. However, happiness is closer and easier to reach than we think. I hope this post will inspire you to think about all those little things that never fail to put you in a good mood. I also hope that this will be something I can go back and read whenever I need a quick trip to my happy place, because it is these little things that our lives are made of.

My little bouts of happiness are brought by the smell of jasmine flowers; Arijit Singh's voice; the rare occasions when I wake up early on a weekend; walking while a soft breeze is blowing, neither too hot nor too cold; the smell of freshly baked goodies from the oven; and the softness of my grandma's hands. Then there's waking up to the pitter patter of raindrops on my window; driving while the sun is still rising; watching my plants bloom after the winter; the smell of coffee; a good book; snuggling inside the blanket at the end of a long day; catching up with a friend after a while; unexpectedly hearing a song I like; the sky painted with the colors of the sunset; and traffic-free commutes. Good hijab days; finding the perfect accessories to go with an outfit; experiencing the magic in AR Rahman's music from the 90's; binge watching a TV show (I have recently been accused of becoming a PLL addict; guilty as charged); listening to my brother narrating stories from his favorite shows and pretending that I understood everything; watching deer peacefully walking on my neighbor's backyard; and looking at my reflection in the mirror and being able to appreciate my beauty beyond the pigmented skin and other imperfections. Sound of the Athan (call to prayer); leaving late and still reaching on time; the sight, smell and taste of anything chocolate, especially brownies; playing with young children and having a baby hold on tightly to my pinkie finger; a rare warm day in the middle of winter; someone filling my car's fuel tank and saving me a trip to the gas station; experiencing the thrills of my deep childhood love awaken as I watch the opening credits of a Harry Potter movie; and postponed deadlines when you've been praying for one. Watching a feel good Indian movie; successfully breaking a wooden board in Taekwondo (on the first try!); a fully charged mobile device; the first ray of sunshine after many rainy days; a piece of complicated code that works after hours of coding/debugging; a perfectly fitting outfit; and oversized sweatshirts. Singing along to my favorite song at the top of my voice; German chocolate cake ice-cream; Nagercoilian plantain chips; ginger candy; chukku kaappi (ginger tea sweetened with palm jaggery); the smell and sounds of early morning at my home in India; and late night drives along the brightly lit streets of Jeddah with my parents and brother (I'm not sure if they enjoyed my constant chatter). Listening to EM Nagoor Hanifa's spiritual Tamil songs; my grandfather's voice calling me 'Kutty' (little one); walking in a stream over rounded pebbles; reading the notes on the inspiration wall in my bedroom; long talks with my sister whilst lying under a clear, starry night sky; the first sight of Nagercoil on the way home from the airport; opening the window blinds every morning and letting in the sunshine; re-reading Harry Potter and discovering something I didn't notice before; a certain mixed smell of spices and perfume that transport me to the open air souks of Jeddah; coming home to a warm hug from my littlest sister; walking on the streets of NYC on a cold winter night; repeatedly listening to a newly released soundtrack composed by AR Rahman until I'm in love with the songs; jhumki earrings; falling asleep with my head on my mom's shoulder while traveling; the eve of Eid at home in India; walking through quaint little towns that have an old world charm to them; pillow fights with my brother; and walking into bookstores. Early morning visits to the farmer's market; sitting on the banks of lakes or ponds and gazing into the distance (I don't quite understand my obsession with them); window shopping at the mall; watching cartoon shows that I loved, as a little kid; city lights at the night time, thanks to my 11 years in the ever so brightly lit Jeddah; the clear musical jingle of ice-cream trucks; late night talks with my mom, aunt, brother and sisters, punctuated occasionally by our grandma's snores and complaints that we're all being too loud; looking through old photographs; and listening to a song all over again from the beginning just because I missed my favorite line. But most of all, I love those little moments when the heart is content and all you can think of is to thank God for the little blessings that make up our lives.

Home - Place, People or Emotion?

Over the last two weeks, every time someone asked me how I was doing, I told them I was homesick. Home is a word that I use way too often. It is one of those words that just make you feel good, feel warm. But I'm glad no one ever asks me where home is. I don't think I can give them one, straightforward answer. It's not that I can't think of any place to call home. It is just that there are too many places I could call home. Actually, I'm often confused about what home really means. This is something I often ponder upon. I recently came to know that this confusion is not just unique to me. Most third culture kids experience it. Third culture kids are people like me, who have grown in a different culture than their native one or their parents' culture. Our lives and memories are scattered in different places; different countries; amidst different people - in buildings that no longer stand, with a group of people that haven't met in a while, in countries that we cannot easily enter; and in cultures that we don't identify with. However, I don't think this is something unique only to third culture kids. Home might have different meanings for different people. It's that diverse of an idea. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I like the word so much.
 
The true beauty of the concept of home lies in the fact that the most unlikely of places can become so endearing and close to your heart that they become home. On 5th October 2000, when my mom and I joined my dad in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia where my dad lived and worked, I instantly knew that it’s not going to be that much fun. I left behind a large family, many cousins my age, a school where I was adored and the freedom to go outdoors to play whenever I wished; back in India. I found myself detesting the fact that as females, my mom and I were completely restricted to our home (in my case, also school) unless my dad could take us outdoors. However, time passed and I had spent the crucial adolescent years of my life in that country. I eventually found myself growing fond of the city, mostly because of the fact that some of my best memories were now made there. The last two wonderful years of high school, a bunch of great friends and loads of extra ordinary memories later, Jeddah was a different place for me. I realized that every street, every corner of Jeddah held memories for me, most of the people I knew lived there and (I didn’t admit to myself, but) the extravagant Arab life that was so evident all around, the brightly lit streets and the never-sleeping city life had begun to grow on me. I eventually moved to the US for college. When I left Jeddah that summer, knowing that I’m leaving my childhood behind forever, I was surprised at how heart wrenching the good bye was. In the years to come, every time I visited Jeddah, I felt like I’m home even though I refused to call anywhere but India, home. When I first arrived at the US, and on my first visit to my college campus, I'd doubted if I could ever feel at home there. Now that I've spent four years in the country and that the country has taught me to and seen me truly grow up, become independent, make my own decisions, make the transition from student to workingwoman and step into adulthood, I realize that without me noticing, this place has become home too. However, even though I've spent most of my life outside India, every time I fly back there, I feel like the place itself puts up a welcome party for me. That first glimpse of the Western Ghats (a mountain range) that stand guard at the entrance to my hometown Nagercoil, fills me with an emotion that I can't possibly put into words. It could be because India is the only place that I can return to, whenever I want without all the visa formalities that surround my trips to any other part of the world; it could be because that's where most of my family lives; or it could be because that's where I started my journey from. But, the joy that fills me when I enter Nagercoil is unparalleled.
 
Recently, I came across an interesting word, hiraeth. The dictionary defines it as “a homesickness for a home you cannot return to, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past." I like to believe that the word was created exclusively to explain my relationship with Jeddah, and the places of my childhood that are long gone. All this reflection led me to a simple realization that I'd always overlooked. It is the fact that home isn’t necessarily just one place. Home is not even just the place where your parents/family live and most importantly, home doesn't have to be the perfect place that has every possible comfort. Home is where a part of you lives, because it has seen you through your good and bad times; when you were at your best and when you were a mess; because it has shared your happiness with you and has given you some comfort in your sorrow; because it has seen you grow and mature; has imbibed a little bit of you in different walks of life; and loves you. Home is a place that will welcome you with warmth whenever you return, every time you return. Home is a place that will seem so familiar that the familiarity tugs at your heart, even if you’re visiting after ages and every physical thing about the place has changed. I had always had resentment at the fact that I hadn't lived in any place long enough to claim that my childhood/adolescent years lived there. But now I realize what a privilege and blessing it is to have bits and pieces of who I am and the memories that I so fondly cherish, scattered over different continents; almost like horcruxes from the Harry Potter series, objects that hold a part of your soul.

Wrapping up 2013 - some thoughts, some memories

It's almost the end of the year! That means that the New Year posts on social media will start coming soon. Towards the end of every year we are used to looking back at how the year has been and it's always interesting to see how people rate their year on their Facebook posts. In a couple of days, it is all people are going to be talking about. You're going to hear about achievements, failures, parties, friends, grades, purchases, vacations and every thing that happened to people in 2013. While some will be happy about how things turned out to be, some will have reasons to complain and will look forward to a new year and new beginnings. When I'm done with the final exams of my fall semester every year, which is usually 10-15 days before the end of the year, I start thinking about how the year has been. But I believe that no matter how bad the year has been, everyone will have had something happen to them that would've made the year worth cherishing. And it would only be fair if we take a moment to thank God for all those precious little moments.

As I was thinking about how this year has been and how I hope the next year will be, I thought of writing a blog post so that everyone reading can also have a few moments of reflection. Such moments of reflection make us gain appreciation for all that we have. So why not bid goodbye to the year with happy thoughts and welcome the new year with good hopes? 2013 has been a great year for me. Nothing extra ordinary, but it is the ordinary things that make life beautiful right? Two great semesters; lots of new friends; my first job; a great summer; lots of quality time with family; finally visiting Dubai after wanting to do so for as long as I can remember; meeting a best friend after two years of being apart; a bunch of good books; starting this blog; making some progress on the path of self discovery; being touched by the kindness shown by strangers and waking up everyday healthy, at home, with family. I've every reason to celebrate the year 2013 and I'm sure you do too!

Since we're talking about all the good things that happened this year, let me share with you an incident that touched my heart and left me feeling overwhelmed. It was sometime in October, a week before a really hard midterm that I went hunting for the textbook for that class. I don't use textbooks unless exams are around the corner and it was only natural that I couldn't find it when I first looked for it. When I couldn't find it even after looking around the house thrice, I was starting to get worried. I know I'm careless with books but have never lost one. I then asked one of my friends and she agreed to lend me her book till I could find mine; but I still kept looking. After considering all possibilities, my aunt remembered returning a few library books a week before. It was a very small possibility but I might have returned my textbook with the library books. Though it seemed preposterous, she thought of giving it a try. That is how the two of us ended up going to the library that Wednesday evening, one day before my midterm. I was convinced that I'd lost my textbook and went along only because she insisted. We went in and told someone about what happened. The events that happened afterwards were nothing less than miraculous. The woman we spoke to, informed a couple of co-workers and all of them went out in different directions looking for it in possible places. I was amazed at the amount of effort they were putting in even though it was entirely my fault. When I told them it was a college textbook, they were even more determined to find it. After looking in a bunch of possible places, we could still not find it. They'd asked me to leave my phone number and other details about the book so that they could keep looking for it. I did so and left, still convinced that my book was never returned with the library books. I hadn't even reached home, when they called to let me know that they found it. We rushed back to the library and as soon as I walked in, a kind looking elderly woman came to me and told me that they had all been looking for the book since college books were expensive and they didn't want me to have to pay for it again. By then, I'd become famous in the library as "the girl who lost her textbook"! They then gave me my book and reminded me as I left, to be more careful with my books in future. I was stunned by how kind these people were to stop doing whatever they were doing to look for my book, even though it was in no way their fault. This is not easy to forget and every time I think of the year 2013, I'll remember this heart-warming incident. You'd have also had some incredible things happen to you in 2013 that are worth remembering. As you bid farewell to the year, keep those in mind and be grateful for all those blessings. Who knows how many around us have had so much to be thankful for?