It's my second year away from home, and so much has changed since then.

The delicate glass bowls that were to be brought out for only special occasions 

have now been replaced with paltry, albeit more forgiving microwavable plastic containers. Waking up to a gazillion phone calls from distant relatives wishing me luck for the new year has been reduced to a plaintive buzz that enlivens my phone once in a while.

Then there is the boisterous laughter of Swapna 'jethi' (an elderly auntie) next door, now sounds like some merry making in a language that can never be mine. 

I am essentially Bangali, and it is crippling. It is crippling and exhausting because you cannot find home in everything around you. It was a matter of extreme hilarity when i bawled like a baby because the fish I ordered from outside had gone bitter because of the excessive use of mustard, hence rendering the fish inedible. Imagine depriving yourself of a portion of your staple diet for 3 years. I don't know what it looks like for you. To me it's nightmarish. 

It is tiring to go on looking for some remnants of your roots. But how can a land grow roots when it was never watered with your presence?

And there you go, bawling like a baby again when all you try to grasp are the few twigs and branches that are bound to snap.

Let's not dampen our spirits though. Stating the standard, and using a cliche, here's what it is- change is the most constant; embrace it. I hope everybody has a good time in the days to come.