! E-Ticket in hand ! ! Household sale bohni this Saturday !

No matter from which angle I look at it, zoom in, zoom out, flip or rotate. It speaks out loud, it is very much a non-refundable, non-transferable ONE-WAY ticket! Don’t get me wrong, I am super excited and looking forward to the move, to the new beginning. But still, there is a hidden angst to let go. It’s that feeling of realness, the sense of no turning back. It’s happening! It’s really happening!!

It’s such an experience to watch my daughter go through this process and to see her interpretation of the move at various stages. I don’t think the scope of moving-to-India has registered to her yet. She was a year old when we made our last trip. She hardly remembers anything from then. Few east coast trips after that have led her to the understanding that we will be back home in few days.

We started the selling process this past weekend. We moved some furnitures downstairs, close to the entrance, just to save the lookers from coming deep inside the house. My daughter asks the question, just as anticipated. Why mumma? Mumma is a good story teller, she can churn answers even in sleep. But to give an answer that is convincing in the first go, and one that does not provoke further questions is a whole different ball game. This time she was prepared and had rehearsed the answer. D, we can only take some suitcases in the plane. Plane does not have space for big items and furnitures. Anything that won’t fit into the suitcases has to be given away. She seemed a bit alarmed and says – Only table, chair, bed, shelf? Right mumma? Not my toys and my bo-oo-oks? You are right beta, I tell her.

So, this American dude walks in to take a look at the dresser I advertised on craigslist. In spite of detailing every possible dimension with pictures in the advertisement, he walks in, takes a look and says its too narrow for his room. What can I say, in that one hour that the empty dresser had been lying downstairs, D had managed to sneak in some of her toys. Maybe the dude got ticked off. My little one who had been observing all along pops with yet another question Why Uncle did not take? He did not like it beta. Another uncle will be here in few minutes, he might take it. Okay, I tell her.
This monster screams at the top of her voice at this man, who is now few feet away – Why are you not taking it? We are going to India. This will not fit into our plane!! Then I cannot even go to India! It is amazing to see how these little minds work and how they connect the dots. Furniture not selling + No space in plane == Cannot go to India.

Shortly another person walked in, loved the dresser, paid the list price and took it. To which D exclaims with extreme happiness and relief This uncle was good uncle. That man was bad boy!

And thus happened the bohni on Saturday.

That very same afternoon, a family with 2 kids came by to pick up the guest twin captain’s bed. While the lady’s husband was busy dismantling the bed to be loaded into his van, the resident chatterbox[Yes, I have lost the title to my daughter] strikes a conversation with the lady. First she asks her name. Then she tells her – You are taking my bed because the boys don’t have any bed to sleep on?
My face was worth a photo shoot, I tell ya.

This past week or so, no soul on the street has been spared from the information that we are moving to India. We had a chat, me and the daughter.
Me: D, you should not tell everybody that we going to India.
D: Why mumma?
Me: Because, some things we can only tell to friends. Mummy and papa’s friends are those uncles and Aunties that come inside our house, talk to papa and mummy for a long time. Other people you see on the street, say hi and smile, are strangers. Should not tell anything to them beyond Hi. Especially when mummy and papa are not around.
D: Oh! You are right mumma! I can tell the Aunty who took my bed. She was inside the house and talking to mummy and paapa for a very long time, right mumma!!

Lesson learned! Things you don’t want the whole world to know, keep it low-key in the house. Contain the excitement to self and spare the little bees from serious calculation of what to say and what not to say!

!! We are moving to Bangalore, India !!

The reason for all this drama in the previous posts? Let’s just say I am a drama queen. Or that I wanted to wait till the tickets were at the least blocked if not booked.

Why Why Why?
That’s the million dollar question. In my close to 10 year tenure here, I have come across many immigrants who wish to go back at some point or the other for one reason or the other. Sampling the thoughts, the common denomination factor invariably seems to be the extended family and aging parents.

I love this country with all my heart. This is my home. This is the life I know. I came here in my twenties with 2 suitcases, 500$ in hand, a visa stamped passport, a job and loads of determination. Though the initial intent was to work here for just a year, go back to unite with my then fiancé, who had no intentions of migrating out of Bombay. Life chose a different path for us. Circumstances forced him to make a business trip to California, Cupertino to be precise. A die hard fan of Steve Jobs gets lodged behind the Apple company, and rest is history.

This country is amazing. Living in the silicon valley, the technology hub, is like heaven for techno nerds and geeks[Read the LH]. The opportunities it gives, the thought process it provokes, the space it provides for creative thinking. Constantly surrounded by highly innovative, crazily creative and passionate people. Where else in the world would one find the headquarters of Google, Apple, Ebay, Yahoo, Oracle, IBM, top tier VC firms, all in the proximity of few miles. Oh, I can go on and on.

If not for being a resident of this place, the confidence it induces, we wouldn’t be running a business today. A business that has provided for 15 odd people in Bangalore for the past 3 years. With a salary I could not even have imagined when I worked in India in late 90’s.

Yet, there is an emptiness. Even at the end of a good productive day, when kids are asleep, the mind if free from racing thoughts, there is a longing to know what the aging parents are doing back home. Technology does bridge the distance, they are one phone/skype call away. Yet, there is a constant angst. What if there is an emergency? What if?

It’s important to put feelings in perspective. Living within India may not mean being physically present 24 x 7 or being available when the moment of need arises. Who has seen what future holds. In spite of this planning, who knows how things will pan out? But, self employment and the nature of our business is giving us this flexibility to take this decision without much impact, in terms of work.

The move is not permanent. We like to plan our life in 5 year chunks. We live in a global world, there is no denying there. A 5 year plan just seems more practical and realistic approach in this global economy. Our business in US will continue as usual. I am fully aware of my duties towards the country. To abide by the law, to be loyal, to pay taxes and to vote. At the same time, I cannot disown my birth country, neither can I disown my family that decided to stay back.

I will miss..
My brother, sister and family.

Friends, friends, friends. A small group of friends in the Bay area who are like extended family. The friends who took turns to provide food for 3 days when I was to be at bed rest. Those friends who took time off from work to stop by and lend a listening ear just because I was feeling low. Those friends whom I could call anytime of the day or night, don’t have to think twice before asking for any sort of help. Those friends whom I could chit chat while cooking and laugh over silly things. Thank you for being there, you will be missed.

I will most definitely miss the people, the general junta. Americans, Chinese, Mexicans.. There is some kind of positiveness in people here. Any passer by would almost always smile, say a hello, sometimes even take a minute to say how lovely the dress I am wearing is. Or that my daughter has a cute smile.

I will miss the non-interfering life style. I do what I wish, no one questions why.

I will miss Whole Foods/Trader Joe’s. Don’t ask me why, but yes, that comes this high in my will-miss list.

I will miss drinking milk directly from the carton, drinking water from the tap. I will miss the dry hot plates that comes out of the dishwasher.

Looking forward to..
I am so looking forward to this move.

To spend time with parents and parent-in-laws. It’s my turn to take care of them, love them and feel loved. To be with extended family, something my daughters have not experienced. This will bring its own set of issues, I am very well aware of that. Yet that experience I want to go through. I want my daughters to know what it is like to live with cousins, aunts and uncles. To spend a winter or summer vacation with them instead of home or a summer camp.

I am so looking forward to the energy India has. We did a dry run of 5 months in Bangalore about 2 years back. I will probably do a separate post on this, but the city in spite of its infrastructure issues has its charm. It’s vibrant, full of energy and enthusiasm.

I am so looking forward to having a cook and a cleaner. My house can once again be sparkling clean every minute of the day. I can be greeted with a glass of water the minute I enter the house. I can wake up to the gingery smell of chai served right to my bed. When the cook entertains D alongside preparing breakfast, I can get a little extra dose of sleep.

I am so looking forward to the sun dried crisp clothes. Oh, that smell! To exchange smiles with neighbors.

I am so looking forward to the change. The chaotic yet organized life style that amazingly works.

So, here we come Bangalore. Welcome us, will ya!

Disclaimer: This post is solely based on my personal experience and my personal opinion.