Moving on…
In the last six years, I have moved into three continents and over five cities—from a small town in West Virginia to the shores of Maryland and down south to Dallas-Fort Worth to across the ocean in Mumbai, settling down in Kathmandu for a while, and now again, making a big move to London.
All these years, moving from one state to another, one city to the other and finally making the move from one country to another, it’s never been easy. As you’re settling down, getting used to the place and trying to make that once unknown, weird and unfamiliar place home, it’s time to move again. That’s how the 21st century world is I guess—you’re just on a constant move.
And with that move the entire dynamics of love, life and relationships changes too.
The move to London hasn’t been easy. Well, yes, I’ve been on a move for a while, but as they say home is where the heart is. I mean, I literally have a love-hate relationship with my city. I hated it while I was there, but deep down the love never died. And of course, it’s where my loved ones dwell, it’s where I’ve been acquainted with love, it’s where I have discovered my passion, and it’s where I’ve had a chance to breed that passion of mine. And moving on doesn’t mean leaving it all behind, forgetting all those people and relationships I believe on. Oh well…
So now here I am in London, one city that I forever dreamed of visiting. Here I am now living here for a while, at least until I finish school.
Out of Heathrow, with an address of one of my dad’s friends, and tons of baggage I walked out. This time at least I had an address; it wasn’t like in Mumbai where I moved without anywhere to go. All I had was a broker’s number. Well…
So lucky me that my dad’s friend was there to pick me at the airport. Good that he helped me with my luggage and then we were off. It’s always great to be welcomed by daal-bhaat for dinner. I know I’m going to miss daal-bhaat!
And as of today, three days of moving into the residence halls, I am surviving on pre-cooked frozen food, bread, bagels, coffee and fruits. Well, that works. And as a student, I mean, it’s again finding free food…let’s hope…
And yay, I’m back to school. That’s what this move is for. That’s why I am in London.
So it was first day of school—back to J-school again. Ad in a few days, it’ll be back to day-long classes, back to reporting, back to bitching…maybe not. Westminster does remind me a lot of TCU, especially the building and classes, they’re alike Moudy. I’ve yet to disover if there’s a newsroom like the Skiff. I know there’s a magazine called Smoke. Hmm..even the names start from “S.”
The first day of class went pretty well. It was basically all introductions, and I’m glad to have a large group of international classmates—from neigboring India and China to South Korea, Egypt, Palestine, Germany, Spain, Italy, my favorite US, and the UK. Looks like it’s going to be a great cultural living and learning experience.
Speaking of the cultural experience, my roommate happens to be a French-Irishman. When I walked into the room, all I saw was a guitar, and I thought to myself that it’s pretty cool that my roommate plays the guitar. And turns out he is a musician. The past days, he’s played and sung in the room, and he ain’t bad at all.
So here is how I basically am summing up my move so far—totally the informal way.
As I sit here, thinking of tomorrow’s assignment—and also working on it—my mind is also hovered by memories of the past, of Kathmandu. I’m thinking about the city and the people. I’m unpacking my memories that I carried along with me. I’m relishing the moments that I spent with some special people. Without you all, it wouldn’t have been real.
And as someone said to me days before I left, “Real smile means real happiness.” And I know I’m gonna be back for that wicked happiness. Soon.
