Home : Between City Dreams and Small Town Peace
After months in Bangalore, the city of never-ending noise and Netflix dinners, here I am, back home. Diwali had finally arrived, and so had I, dragging along a suitcase stuffed with just enough clothes to survive my mom's “How do you not have warm clothes?” interrogation. Ah, the joys of home. Note: The readers are encouraged to stress on the words written in "double" quotes. Landing back in my house felt surreal. First, there's my bed! "My bed" With that fluffy old blanket that never needed a replacement and that pillow molded perfectly to my head over a decade. Bangalore’s trendy memory foam has nothing on this! And waking up in that bed to the familiar sounds of Papa’s 7 am bhajans, blasted across the house. In Bangalore, my 7 am means debating if I can squeeze in "five more minutes". Here, there’s no choice – bhajans, chai, and Dad's banter about the rising cost of vegetables set the scene. And let’s be real, they’re actually at very ch...