Is this what it feels like when you leave home for the first time…?
The first week, you think, ‘Yay! Freedom! I-get-to-do-what-I-liiiieeeekk! I-get-to-do-what-I-liiiieeeekk! ’ *victory dance*
By the third week, you’re thinking, ‘What would mum say if I did this? ….Maaaybe I shouldn’t…’
When you see the cover of your book torn , you think “Ugh!! That cat!”… and then you remember – THAT cat is back home.
You miss the food back home… and prepare a mental menu of what you’re going to eat when you get back.
Everyone is remembered fondly, even the people you used to hate…. ‘And that was the one who cheated off me in the exam… so-and-so still owes me a hundred bucks… sigh, the good old days!’
You keep comparing your new city to your old one. The people (skin colour, size of nose etc), the clothes (how can people wear SO much sparkly-stuff?!), the music (okay, old city sucks when it comes to this one), the lingo (arre yaar, iska feel nahin aaya… seriously, mein toh kal M-Block Market ja rahien hoon. aanna hai?), even the Ants (seriously. Delhi’s ants are HUGE!).
You miss your old bed. And your old bathroom. (Even the mirror, your old towel and the good old toilet seat.) And the smell of your old kitchen.
~ sigh… to be continued… ~