Moving to India
Swades. That’s what comes to your mind in the first instance doesn’t it? SRK, NASA, pre-Breaking Bad RV, etc. I don’t watch many movies, but somehow I had watched this. And no, it’s not like that at all — at least in my experience.
My parents and I moved out of India in the year 2001 and I moved ‘back’ in 2016. More than half my life was spent outside India, so can I really say that I moved back to India in 2016? Partly yes and partly no. Yes because it was relatively a known place for me. I had kept coming to India during every summer vacation while in school and for a short week or two every year after school. No because India had been a holiday destination for me: a break from the usual routine, calm and peaceful time with the grandparents, and a feast for my taste buds. I can’t claim that I had lived here before. So what is it like to move to India after having pseudo-lived there for less than half my life? A very short disclaimer — it was my choice to move to India and with utmost excitement, I flew into the country in June 2016. Let me divide my journey into three parts: The Honeymoon, The Adjustment, The Acceptance.
The Honeymoon (~ 3 months)
This was just like the holiday. It seemed like I was back for a summer vacation. Every day was a whole new level of appreciation that I can be fed soft, freshly prepared chapatis, warm daal and rice — something that was a once-in-a-few-months luxury for better part of the previous decade. This is the phase where India does not feel chaotic, but it feels lively and colourful. In general, it’s the excitement of moving to a new place. This is when the friends, the relatives, and the colleagues all refer to you as the ‘firang’ (foreigner), the ‘angrezi’ (the Britisher — as I was previously staying in the UK), and of course, the NRI. But you tell yourself that you’ve come home.
The Adjustment (~ 6 months)
After excitedly eating home food for a better part of the last 3 months, I got adventurous. I decided to have some street food. As expected, that didn’t bode well with the stomach, but that’s part of the adjustment isn’t it? This is when it really started to feel like this is where I live now. I had started to work, developing a good camaraderie with colleagues and the bosses. I’m very thankful to my parents for keeping me in touch with Marathi, and to some stroke of luck for keeping me fluent in broken Hindi. But this is the period when my language skills really started to improve.
It was a clash of cultures, at work and in day to day life. The biggest adjustment that I felt was the concept of Indian Standard Time — being late means being on time. The second biggest adjustment was to forget that ‘it just works’. Assume that nothing works, and when something does, it brings happiness. This was mostly prevalent in things that were taken for granted in the West. One example is the mobile networks. This was a pre-Jio India, and most tier-2 cities did not even have 4G services; and broadband was pathetic. Another example was the traffic. The first stage involved a lot of excitement to drive in the city’s lively and colourful traffic. But that erodes fast when it becomes a commute at the start of the day and the end of the day. Speed limits and the concept of ‘Give Way’ were dearly missed.
The Acceptance (~ 3 months)
After three-quarters of a year, the taunts of ‘firang’, ‘angrezi’ and NRI have dimmed away. You start ordering a good old Dominos once in a while. You crave a nice juicy bacon cheese burger, but it only contains chicken here. You’ve gotten used to the work culture here, the friendly lack of some formalities, the unnecessary presence of some formalities, the year-round festivities. And most importantly, you learn how to swear in Hindi and Marathi. Now what better proof that you have settled into India than this?
Moving to India has not been an easy process by any means. With all the comforts of the West, India too has its comforts — the food, the family, the friendliness. Most importantly, it taught me to appreciate the simple things in life; from your friendly neighbourhood stray dog, to a honk-free commute. From the bliss of a nice cheese Pav Bhaaji, to the breaking of the Monsoons. From the train being only 20 minutes late, to the phone network sustaining a 30 minute call. And after a year, I could finally call it home.
