Written piece
Leaving Home to Build Another
Purabi Das
Canada
About this piece
I left India when I married my husband who was already living in Canada. Despite many bouts of homesickness, I began to realize early on that the joy of making a home is a feeling shared by all no matter where we come from, a common thread running through all humanity.
Each day brings a new relative, a family member she hadn’t seen in a while. Her sisters with their children have arrived already. From a quietly contemplative presence, their home is gradually transforming into a centre of activity, their mother’s care like a soft veil over all.
On another continent a young man is getting ready to return home for that longed-for yet not quite believable moment. He is getting married to his love.
Benevolent gaze bestowed upon the girl and her family, the house waits. Blessings of a thousand happy hours intertwined within the old polished furniture, framed pictures, stacks of books on shelves and cupboards, dolls now outgrown but lovingly stored, brick courtyard, cool tiled floors, whitewashed walls.
It’s the month of May and the heat during the day is intense. When the evening breeze blows through open windows and doors and people in the house relax on the verandah sipping on cool drinks, the house relaxes too. Yet, there is an underlying sadness in the bricks and tiles, the trees and flowers, the very air she has breathed from the day she was born. She will leave us all, the house sighs one more time, youngest of them all, how will she survive in another world? A world far-removed from what she is accustomed to. What sight will greet her when she opens her eyes to a new day?
She makes a new home in another country. Fixes it up with familiar photos, books, paintings, and cooking utensils. Reminiscent of what she has left behind recognizing her quest for home is that which lies within. Thus, binding the two countries – one she was born in and the other she is living in now – into one home of love.