Cold and freezing Alaska also  had some warm Indian snack to sprinkle heat just the way we did in India.

Ronita is a nice lady fighting identity crisis at this moment

There is an album at my home where there are infinite stories about my Dad’s visit to different countries abroad but his whole experience narrates a very different sketch about his stay at that time. I used to see the album and say “How lucky you are Dad, to have trotted around the world, these faraway places are just like some faraway fantasy land for me."

But after 25 years I really have a very different opinion .Thanks to Globalisation and liberalization policies. Those faraway places which always evoked a sense of awe has been shed off “ohk, going to US, try those spicy papads and chicken tikka masaIa in that nearby dhaba just around the bay area.”  I no longer flip on the pages of the album with my mouth open, eyes squandering thinking of that world as unknown, alienated in spite of being so beautiful. The whole world is so familiar so known these days.

With IT revolution, globalisation and the magical world of web, even  the unscathed corners of Mars have been invaded and appears just like a new town somewhere near, US, Europe, Australia or Antarctica, Africa are just next door neighbours. The world has been squeezed, condensed to a smaller sphere. I had this opportunity to be a part of this new identity and believe me I never felt I was7, 658 kms away from my own abode.

It was this gloomy weather in England which often evoked me to go down memory lane and seek   spicy Indian delights with a cup of chai. And did you think I had to order that next time from a distant relative staying in India and count days till she arrived and said “Oops, this time my luggage was too heavy, its better if  next time you plan a trip to Darjeeling and bring some sachets for me too.” And did I have to sulk or frown on her pathetic lame excuses?

My  murky days  would be  sprinkled with ‘masalas’ and ‘spices’ from  local departmental stores which had this big section of Indian savouries and right behind the counter was a section all filled with different varieties of handpicked leaves right from Assam to Darjeeling.

 

 

The lanes and by lanes of England where I spent a few years did not smell  “foreign “rather the tangy curry delights and its aroma  dragged me into the shady lanes of  English towns, with little arrows showing boards “Indian Meals”  “Taste of India” or “Mini India” . The local restaurants served fine aromatic curries right from Chicken Chettinad to Mutton Vindaloo, Paneer Tikka Masala to Pulao. And I used to say “This time I ain’t book my tickets just to have a taste of India”.  Even packs of comfort food made in 2minutes were all stacked up in the shelves.

 

The little placard right near the farmer’s market had this small brochures pinned up “Learn Bollywood dance and moves from renowned bollywood choreographer” and here I was certainly looking for an English ballet class but....

The foreign encounters were rare but desi brush stroked every orb of life. A sneak peek into the big brand showrooms, a little turning on and off the tag would arrest my glance and the little note on the collar of the shirt written “Made in India” sometimes left me frantically seeking space where I would be left without the Indian tag or might be underneath I would take pride “The world has become so small, surely.”

Come Indian festivals every Indian household looked like mini India adorned to its best in the most vibrant attire. Did I dare to say or think I was some7, 658 kms away from the subcontinent? The archetypal Indian homes performed conventional rituals just like any other part of India. The emblematic decoration of the Indian homes could swipe you away to your own home, the little packs of sweets exemplified the Indian characteristics of sweets even Indian sweet shops would shy away(there were few of those delights which i  remember were made by the elderly women folks of India, they were right there in beautifully packed cases), firecrackers burning away, rituals being performed with the perfect tinge of Indian ness(even a pundit ji was a call away), the thumping tune of latest Bollywood soundtracks and the smell of incense sticks so familiar, so known, so recognizable would just push those boundaries aside..and those faces so alike, so many of them residing away from home in another country just throwing a subtle hint here and there everytime,everywhere that home is here, home is just where you reside.

The nostalgic moments does not torment your memory any more.  A remote English country side town did have the ability to reflect the same shade you had desired for, absolutely soaking up into your identity, the costume, the culture, the food being assimilated into another land just like an NRI softening his own identity to live without remorse in an unknown land.

A new home greets you far away from your own home.