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A Pit Stop

I went home for the first time in the past 2 years for a 2-week stay. I initially thought I was being clever with making it only a 2-week trip, because I was saving my PTOs and it would be a very short break for my marathon training. But cut to the end of this trip, and this looks like a stupid decision to me.

2 years in the US without seeing my family honestly didn’t feel so hard, because according to me I had important things to worry about. Those things were job, visa, running, traveling, etc. But now I realize that there is something more important above all these things. It’s my happiness and mental peace. I experienced it for the first time in these 2 years when I was at home.

I experienced feeling safe when my father accompanied me on my runs on his scooter to shoo away street dogs chasing me. I experienced the feeling of care when my mom had a milkshake ready for me to drink as soon as I returned home after runs. I experienced the feeling of nostalgia while seeing the pictures of my brother as a baby and seeing how grown up he has become. I experienced fulfillment watching my family step into the home we bought. We stayed in rentals my whole life before this.

I wish these experiences didn’t stop, but I had to say goodbye to them and hop on that return flight. How difficult was it to leave them, especially after the knowledge that all I have in the States is eons and eons of loneliness!

Now I wonder why I left home in the first place. Is it all part of some wicked plan the universe has in store for me? Why did that plan begin with a 16-year-old me leaving home for college, never realizing that after that point home is always going to be a temporary pit stop? Who came up with the concept that one needs to leave home to grow as a person and build a good life? I mean I get the point of it, so I can’t really blame the inventor of that concept. But I wish there was some leeway. Or maybe there is, I am not sure. The path I chose for my life comes with that inherent uncertainty of not knowing when I can go home again. And even if I dare going home, there is always the possibility that some regulation might change, stranding me in India and taking the life I built in the United States away from me.

It is my birthday next week, and I honestly don’t want to celebrate it because I am going to be alone on that day, for the first time in my life. I am convinced loneliness and uncertainty are the only two certainties of life as an Indian expat in the United States. But at the end of the day, this life helped me build a career and give financial freedom to my family back home. So maybe this is all worth it and I should complain less?

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