During a lazy afternoon, I woke up from the sound of the cricket on the television in the lounge room, broadcasting channel nine’s coverage of the one-dayer between Pakistan and Australia. There was a strange experience of nostaliga hearing the thick Australian accents again with the feeling of familarity washing over me felling almost foreign and out of place. I had been here for so long that seeing home again didnt seem the same, like I was watching it through an outsiders eyes.
I walked into the room and sat on the floor for lunch with eyes fixed on the television. Indians are cricket crazy here, way more than back home: kids play with stick bats and brick wickets in the dirt fields of the slums while teenagers bat against automated bowling machines in the shopping malls. Cricket is everywhere. Ive never been a big fan of cricket, but as I watched the game played out in the clear blue skies, the sunburnt crowd cheering, the familiar logos donning in the stadium … it made me forget for a second the roti and curry I was stuffing in my mouth, the cows roaming outside and the power outages going on all day. But then again not really.
In addition to a little homesickness, the experience made me wonder what its going to be like when I get back home… is it going to just the same again? Will I adjust right back in as if this was but a passing dream.. and life goes on? I hope not. India has so much that repulses as well as attracts you. But once you accept it for all that it is, I think India becomes part of you, as it has become of me. So even when I come back, I dont think I will really leave India.