The first time it happened, I was in the twilight of my teen years, and since then, the process continues, unabated, again and again, repeatedly. I am about to get uprooted, yet again. The first time was when I left home, fresh from my College days, starry-eyed, timid and so very idealistic, my senses full of my own Grandeur, eager as a bee in Spring-time, to do good, or at least something worthwhile. Since then, countless uprootings have happened, leaving me in fragments, bits of my Sentimental, foolish heart left behind, with bits of roots, that withstood the wrenching out.
It is about to happen again, I have lost count, you do tend to, after a while. I had come here, immersed myself(or at least tried to, honestly!!) in this new life, at a Tea Garden, slowly carving a home for myself, making plans to buy a dog, buying stuff to hang on the bare walls of my new home, when, all of a sudden, out of the blue, came a distress call, and as if Providence itself arranged it thus, an opportunity to do something my heart had always wanted, while attending to the call.
So, I leave, like a Gypsy, minus the whirly, brightly coloured garments, and the fortune-telling (what Cliches), to venture into a new world, again, but at least, this time around, there would be a pair of hands, to help me along, and a kind soul to give me company,
I am determined not to grow roots, this time around, not to try and make a home, for myself, treat it just the way it is meant to be, a halt in the night, a resting place, till I find my true Home!
The countdown has begun, the packing started again, the anxious parental concerns, the unsatisfactory, sometimes curt replies I give.. How do I tell them , that I am as anxious as them, more so maybe, because the luxury of Home, that they enjoy, the security its presence provides is not for me,,, ever again, has not been so for so many years.
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