Photo Guy Ackermans I’ve progressed in my studies here and now I can see the beginning of the end. How quickly time passes! I find myself trying to cram as many experiences as possible into the months I have left. Thoughts and activities jostling to get to the front of the line. A big hurry to not miss out on anything. Until something comes along and stops everything in its tracks.
Earlier this week, I walked into our kitchen here in Wageningen to make my usual cup evening chai. A ritual I savour especially now that the weather is a bit warmer and I can drink it outside. A shaft of yellow sunlight fell through our kitchen window and on to the white stovetop. It struck me that the way it glinted off the burners was identical to the way it did nearly twenty years ago on my mother’s old two-burner stove back home. As I continued to make chai, I tried reasoning with my memories. It’s a random ray of sunshine; I’m reading too much into this. How could it look the same? I’m on the other side of the world. I’m just seeing what I want to see.
By the time I make my chai here, my family would be settling into dinner back home
But I can see those afternoons very clearly. Life had a different quality back then. The rich slowness of the atmosphere just when my mother woke from her nap, bringing the silent house to life again. Her hands worked quickly, adding milk and measuring out spoonfuls of tea powder. But I knew that her mind was elsewhere, already busy planning dinner. Sunlight streamed through the narrow kitchen window, dodging between the leaves of the mango tree first. By the time we sat down to drink our chai, it would take on a more mellow quality. Hombisilu in Kannada. Golden sunlight. It’s a feast for the eyes, uplifting all that it touches.
By the time I make my chai here, my family would be settling into dinner back home. I sit in my garden completely bathed in golden light with a slow cup of tea. Memory, present day and an abiding sense of nostalgia existing all at once. I imagine that many people away from home experience this. Stumbling unexpectedly on connections between two different lives that run parallel. I wonder whether I’m ever going to feel wholly content in one place again or always feel this tug of belonging and longing.
Ananya Doraswamy is a Master’s student in Communication, Health and Life Sciences from India. She delights in a slow-paced day that has plenty of time for cloud-watching and tree-gazing. She enjoys being in busy, multicultural kitchens that have plenty of food and stories to offer.
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