I recently moved cities. I left Bangalore, where I’d been for 7 years, and moved to Pune. And people think I’m out of my mind.
But it didnt feel strange to me. Saying bye and moving. Starting afresh all over again. Being in a new, unknown place. Being the new girl on the block, the outsider, the one who doesnt quite belong. And it feels right at home. This feeling. Of being the outsider. Of not quite belonging.
It feels like the most natural way of being for me. And I know no other way.
I’ve never lived in a city, in a house, for long. I cant fathom what it’s like living in the same city, the same neighbourhood, your entire life. Knowing the same set of people, for 20, 30, 40 years. It’s not been deliberate. That’s just the way life has been. And looking back, I would choose no other way.
I’m a traveller. Always have been. And the few short years that I havent travelled, have been the odd ones in the my life. Where I felt lost. And disconnected with myself. Know what I mean?
Vianne Rocher, Chocolat.
In Pune, then. Till the next winds.
