Tuesday, February 10, 2015

A Goodbye to a Little Hole in the Wall I Sometimes Called Home

It ought not to matter what led me here, for it was a long time ago now. But it is hard sometimes not to look over your shoulder and down the way you came on, for the past is always behind you. For now, I shall not burden my words with the baggage I pack and take along with me. Moving on.

This hole in the wall where I have lived for more years than I want to say out loud has been home, once in a while. Like the vows we make under our breath when we begin a relationship, this house has been, for better or for worse, a refuge sometimes, a scene for drama always and witness to the many 'me's that make up the me now. I like this me immensely more than the one I was when I moved here. But as someone said to me recently, it is always a process, everything adds up.

Anyway.

So finally, FINALLY, I am moving. There won't be many details on these pages, maybe a picture, if the sun filtering in through my new studio/study inspires me enough to take one. There was once upon a time when with you, dear readers, I would have shared the details of the gorgeous balcony I shall have, the leafy, big tree that overhangs it, the light that sweeps in through these new rooms, the openness, the change of air and wind and all that. But you change, I have changed. And while the urge to write down every idea that comes to me remains (thankfully) strong as ever, there are certain things I would no longer write here, on these precious pages. 

How I digress. 

So this home I shall leave behind and make a new place mine. I remain incredibly apprehensive. Where once I could sit between giggling girls and video games and bus stations or within plain walls and bang away at the keys of the computer, space is so much more important now. Perhaps that's what age and experience does. I remain apprehensive for what this new house will make me do. There is the thrill of that mystery too. 

My feelings are mixed. This place has been the longest I have lived in any house in this city. I call it a hole, for how small it is. It is everything that makes me cringe, yet it has been a comfort zone. Comfort zones, irrespective of their toxicity, are hard to push through. These walls could tell you many stories, of stupidities, of loves and lovers, of failings and fortitude, of laughter and a thousand memories. Maybe I will leave most of them behind.

On the other hand, it couldn't perhaps have been a better time to move. In life, I am almost exactly where I want to be - happy. The chips are all seemingly falling into place and the new place is nearly everything I would want in what will soon enough be called home, mine. I will miss only perhaps what the years here have done to make me who I am, but then, sometimes wanking the bandage off is the only way to do it. 

With all the excitement and apprehension packed in the carton boxes that fill one room here now, this feels incredibly like cleansing. Goodbye, dear house, you have added to the drama that I couldn't possibly do without in my life these days. Those were good times, the best and the worst.

Here is to new beginnings and inevitable changes. 

1 comment:

Samuel Gnanadurai said...

Deepa, u mean to say u r not going to rite here anymore? I'm sad. Your writings were such an inspiration and you actually made me start my own and how happy that place of mine has made me is beyond words.