It was the night of New Year’s celebration. The year was about to end in the next thirty minutes. Jamnagar was a silent city. The trees swayed in silence. The wind blew past the auto rickshaw giving me a shiver. My hair was flowing, falling over my eyes, partially restricting my view of the surroundings. The halogens had lit up the whole road, and a few bikes & scooters passed by. I also crossed a few pedestrians, who were probably taking an after dinner stroll,  walking slowly and leisurely.  My surroundings were calm, silent and undisturbed. Everything immediate to me was unaware of the fact that New Year was just 30 minutes away from them.  I stopped the rickshaw a little away from my house. I got down and waited for a while for him to take my luggage out, only to realize he was not my driver who would take out my luggage and would hand it to my maid in the house.

I paid cash to the rickshaw wala with a tip, that too out of habit, and pulled out my Tommy Hilfiger backpack. I looked at my house and took a deep breath.  I did not know what slowed me down, the weight of my backpack or the weight of my karmas. I was blank, while I walked towards my house. But, as I stood at the black iron gate of my house, a flood of memories and emotions swarmed my mind.  I was not shivering, but I was cold. I was not afraid, but I was apprehensive. I was free from my burden, but I still stood outside, unable to ring the bell, unable to knock. A fear of rejection, a fear of being turned down lingered in my heart. It took me the whole day to reach Jamnagar from Delhi. I don't know how long it would take to get inside my house

I, Shobhna Shah, 34 years old, and a Market research Director, at a leading MNC in Delhi, had resigned, and left, without even serving the notice period. It was homecoming, may be never to leave again.

It was a long journey to Delhi. I had worked real hard to achieve success in my life, or what I thought was success. It was not the pressure to perform, rather a madness, to be an achiever at each stage, to be at the center of attraction in each party and in every meeting, which made me work like a dog. Communication was always my forte and my post graduation degree gave me the ability to manage it, prepare it and use it properly.

Delhi taught me that everything had to be a show. One can only survive, if one can sell themselves in the market. Selling meant, to boast about your work, to showcase it with that extra, and the extra was nothing but the X factor. I was an average looking lady, with little sense of colours, and fashion. I made sure that I read the magazines to pick up a sense in fashion, and learnt the pronunciation of words on Google audio. I did my home work on cuisines, wines & scotch to go along with them.  I picked up the art of looking pretty, to beautify my pencil thin lips, flat cheeks, big almond shaped eyes and curly hair. I spend few extra thousands for the clothes to drape my perfectly toned body. I woke up earlier than usual to run a few extra miles in the compound of my luxurious apartment, and hit gym in the evening to maintain my figure as well, just to get noticed by the top notch in the industry. Everybody was running, but I wanted to lead the runners. I worked hard and partied hard.

As I had hopped cities to reach Delhi, I had given each of them a part of me, and taken back a lot of learning and a lot of memories.

Ahmedabad, the city of my youth, was where I did my graduation. It was also the city that gave me my dreams. The city had taught me to be pragmatic during emotional situations, to build fences around my heart. Once one of my professor told me “Drink tea together but don’t let the taste linger on to your tongue for long”. I connected with many people in order to achieve something. Sometimes, these connections lead me to one night stands, and I had happily agreed, just to be the center of their life, I gave in completely to them, but without a heart and without a soul. 

Today afternoon, when I landed at Ahmedabad Airport, the city welcomed me with tight lips. Everything had changed around me. Everywhere there were high rise buildings, highways for better connectivity, big hotels and somehow the city imposed its changes on me. I was not ready for that. I wanted to relive my old days. Tea with maska bun, which used to be my favorite, didn’t taste the same. I asked for a Dabeli, instead, they gave me a something which was more a burger than anything, in a beautiful tray with paper tissues and ketchup. Ahmedabad had changed, may be for good. As I started my journey back to Jamnagar, via Rajkot, my thoughts went flying to another city in my life.

Ahhh…Rajkot… my freedom. My first day in college, I was agile; I was a fresher and full of energy. I wanted to learn as much as I could. In my college I participated in each and every event so that I get noticed. Though I came from a small town, yet my English and my confidence to present myself was way above my college crowd. I befriended people who were intelligent and smart students of the class.  As I look back, I know where the roots of that obsession lay, of being noticed and being someone important. Jamnagar!

My years in Jamnagar were full of innocence, love and simplicity.  I was a back bencher. I was never interested in any of the competitions. I was good in studies and dreamt of simply completing my studies and settling down with a good boy. I was in tenth when he proposed. He was in twelfth. He was my first love. We got along very well. All my friends used to say that we were made for each other. He cleared his boards and went to Ahmedabad for higher education. Two years went by. When I cleared my 12^th with good marks, I requested him to come down to Jamnagar, to celebrate with me. He came the next day, but not to celebrate, but to break our relationship. He had fallen in love with another girl in Ahmedabad, who was beautiful, smart, and intelligent.

“Shobhna, she is a performer. She is an achiever”. He eyes were shining with pride as he said that. 

My dreams were shattered. 

That day I hated my parents for bringing me up with a dream of being a good girl,  good house wife and a good mother. I had figured that good was not enough. I could not live in Jamnagar and take in the sympathy of my friends. I fought with my parents and decided to study further, and live outside the boundaries of my family.  I wanted to break the harness of my parents and live free and be an achiever.

“Shobhna!! Deekari,” my mom screamed with happiness and surprise, as she opened the main door of the house.

She came out hurriedly draped in a Gujarati sari, with a small black Bindi and the diamond nose pin that always adorned her sharp nose. A shawl hung loosely on her shoulders

She opened the gate and let me in. She hugged me tightly. Her embrace provided the much needed warmth that repaired every wound in me. I was welcomed inside. I was glad, emotionally drawing a blank, yet peaceful.

Everything was just the same, except that my siblings were much older now. My sister was a teacher in a school and brother had his own business. My father had taken a comfortable position on the wall, in a photo frame, with a smile, but I could feel his presence in the house.

They all sat near me, with love in their eyes and questions on their lips. It was a new life, a redemption for me.

All these years, I never came back to celebrate any festival with my family. I wondered why.

As I strolled inside my own house, the walls were painted, the furniture was changed and my room was now solely my sister’s. Yet, every single thing welcomed me with open hands. I sat on the bed, as ma came and sat next to me. I kept my head in her lap.

“Ma, I left everything”

“Su kam” asked Ma, while she ran her fingers through my messy hair.

“Ma, it was not worth it. Can I live here?”

“This is your home. I knew you would come back. Bhadu bhulija”

Years ago a boy dumped me because I was not a performer.  After years of hard work, staying away from Jamnagar, from my family, from my own self, a man dumped me again. This time, the reason was different. I was a performer, something he did not like.

Over the years, I became bold, strong and did everything to get where I wanted to. But, it took away my innocence. I forgot to connect with myself.

I did not realise I couldn’t be everything to everyone. I went by what others wanted from me, instead of looking for what I wanted from myself.

I have learned to move on in life. I have learned to face the toughest of storms and yet stand upright.  And today I learnt to accept myself, the way I am.

Ma bent over me and kissed me, my siblings came with tea and my favorite sweet bun, hugged me and said “Di, this house was empty without you”.  I have come back to my roots to celebrate the free spirit in me with my loved ones who accept me as I am. It is a new beginning, a new year and a happy one.