We reached Canberra on a warm Sunday afternoon in February 2006. It had been a long journey from Delhi. We reached our accommodation, placed our luggage, unpacked basics and took a cab to have a quick bite in the City.
On the way back we decided to walk to our accommodation, no more than 20 minutes away. Having made enquiries about directions earlier, we thought we had a pretty good idea of the route to take.
Ten minutes into our walk, we reached a T-juncture and were not sure where to turn next (please note this was the pre-Apple era). It was about 7:30 pm now. We decided to ask someone for directions. But who? There was no one around as far as we could see. We turned back and still no one in sight. We had been so engrossed in our conversation that we did not realise there were hardly—or actually no people around us. Was there some sort of curfew going on that we were not aware about?
I mean coming from Delhi—where the hustle-bustle never stops, the noise, the traffic, street vendors, little eateries on the sidewalks, kids playing on the pavements, rickshaws and autos lined up on the roadside, and hundreds of people around you at any given time of the day—I could not fathom why in the world on a Sunday evening at around 7:30 pm, there was no one around in the capital city of Australia? Where was everyone? A few cars zoomed past us, but no actual faces or people on the road/street walking, talking etc.
It took us a detour and a kilometre of extra walking before we spotted someone to ask directions. It was no curfew after all. That was just how it was on any given Sunday evening (at least in those days). Standing on that desolate, empty road, almost in tears, I thought, ‘Is this place really going to be my home for the foreseeable future?’ Where is the crowd, the noise, the people … the sounds of life? I was already missing home… It made me question my decision to come to Canberra, I confess. Little did I know at the time how much this beautiful city would grow on me that I would never want to leave it.
Moving to a new country is hard enough but the problem is exponentially multiplied if you are an Indian moving abroad. There is just so much more to miss and long for. You might want to read on if you too are planning to live abroad, have recently started living, or have been settled for years.
Here are the top things you start missing about India soon after you leave it:
1. The crowd, the noise…the sounds of life
Coming from a country of 1.2 billion people, I never thought I would say this—but I actually missed seeing the people on the roads, I once referred to as ‘crowd’. The constant honking of cars, the jhatka-matka Bollywood songs playing on the roadside radio, the calling of the vegetable sellers with redis—all that we construed as ‘noise’.
The sight of roads packed with vehicles, and rickshaws fidgeting around in the chaos of traffic; shops with clothes hanging at the entrance and posters of movie stars on walls. People having tea outside their shops, reading the paper, or under barsaatis doing gupshup; fruit and vegetable vendors spraying the produce with water to keep it glistening—you get the picture. You miss all that, and yes, I know how weird it sounds, but still rings true.
2. Mom’s cooking
This is one aspect that I miss most of all and every day. What I would do to get that one bite in my mouth from my mom…How much you long for that taste. It doesn’t matter that you have followed the recipe exactly or cooked it 20 times before; mom’s cooking has some kind of magic and healing powers. That joy of not having to ‘request’ someone to cook the meal but having it all the same. But I guess this is our time to create those same beautiful memories for our kids.
3. Mouth-watering chaat
This deserves a category of its own. The convenience of finding a good chaatwaala (or any chaatwaala) every few kilometres is something that can never be reciprocated here, abroad. The joy of eating paani-puri or gol gappe standing with your friends and requesting the vendor, “bhaiya ab teekha waala dena” is incomparable. The choice and variety of these snacks available in India remains unparalled.
4. The excitement in air in lead up to festivals:
The days leading up to any of India’s major festivals are very special. There’s a certain anticipation and excitement at the same time in the ambience. All these celebrations have distinctive aspects which just cannot be recreated abroad: the lamps and lights everywhere, and smell of incense, firecrackers and food during Diwali; neat mounds of bright gulal colours for sale in shops, throwing water balloons at random strangers (and it being kind of ok), during Holi; the large-scale dandiya dance events in traditional clothes during Navratri, women clad in vibrant red and white saris during Durga Puja, modak and immersion of Ganesha during Ganesh Chaturthi, etc.
Moreover, celebrating, Diwali, Pongal on the actual day with an official holiday from work/school has its own charm in India. Celebrating the festival on the weekend (because it fell on a working day) at an event organised by the Indian association abroad does not really match up.
5. Parents, family and siblings
The love, the joy and the reassurance you get from staying close to family is unsurpassable. I mean it has its pros and cons but this is the choice we made. We face this hard reality of staying away from parents and very dearly missing them.
Regular phone calls, Face Time, WhatsApp chats help but can only do so much in times of need by either side. The reassurance of asking mum/dad in the middle of the night, complaining of a sore throat and they advising you to do gargles (which you knew already but felt better after hearing from their mouth) is something you really miss living abroad.
6. Adrenalin rush during an India-Pakistan match
One does not to have to be in a stadium to feel the rush and the surge of patriotism which every Indian feels during an international cricket match, especially if it’s Pakistan playing on the other end 😊. Not to forget the sight of celebrations with people dancing on the streets and burning left over Diwali crackers.
7. Indispensable maids and domestic help
The absolutely, wonderful and indispensable maids you fought with for coming late—how much you miss them now as you go about cleaning, dusting, chopping, washing, drying, folding, shopping, cooking, all by yourself. Perhaps the little dirt they ‘forgot’ to clean under the bed or behind the door might not seem unacceptable now. You miss those days of simple luxuries of just spending a lazy day at home and not worry about domestic drudgery being piled up for next day.
8. Convenience of going to shops after 7 pm
This is again one of those cultural things which might seem very strange to someone who starts living in the western world for the first time. The shops close around 5 pm, the same time you finish work! When do you do your shopping then? It is expected that you plan out your time, work or weekends accordingly. You will be amazed how quickly you adapt to this lifestyle but nonetheless miss the convenience of random window shopping without thinking about the time. And yes, I know shopkeepers have a life too here abroad but I am just talking from the other side for now—what we have seen growing up.
9. Simple pleasures of bargaining
The joy (and maybe even a sense of achievement) you feel after bargaining a good price on a piece of clothing, or an antique item, at the market or shops is second to none. Not so much scope of doing the same here with the set price tags on every item and self-checkout counters.
10. Being able to avail specialist medical assistance the same day
If your child is unwell today and you want to see a paediatrician straight away—well, god help you—you will be lucky if you get to see one before your child’s next birthday. Being able to see any medical specialist (public or private) in my part of the world is considered to be a special occasion. Unlike back home where if you are worried and need to get your child checked up and you can straight away book an appointment with your paediatrician for the same day or the next. If you happen to be in Canberra, you’d have to wait up to a year to see a specialist in the public system; or at least 6-9 months to see a private specialist. Yes, you might wonder what’s the point then? Not to mention, the cost to see these private specialists is also worth planning over during your waiting period.
There are countless other things that you miss such as being able to get ‘help’ from neighbours (i.e. asserting you right to ask for sugar, milk, etc., or leaving your kids with them without any prior arrangement); having relaxed unplanned days for a change when you don’t have to plan your groceries, weekly meals, other chores, etc.
We would love to hear what is the one thing that you miss the most and what do you do to overcome it?
You can read more blog posts relating to Indian diaspora here.