The Move

I am afraid. Thirty-two thousand feet in the air, warm and comfortable in a blanket, some coffee, a drink and food at hand, the only confession I can make and admit to myself is that I am terrified. Of all the things I just left behind and the choice I’m hurtling towards. My heart is in my throat right now and I cannot stop the tears that I keep dabbing away.
Less than an hour ago, I boarded a plane from Chicago to Seattle. As I went past security, a TSA agent asked me if I was heading home. I found myself tongue-tied. I was leaving home. A place I made my home in and going away. A conscious decision, I should add, but I was still leaving.

For nearly 6 months now I’ve known this was bound to happen. Two months ago I signed certain papers and it became official. As I revealed the news to those closest to me, it slowly began to sink in that I wouldn’t see them again. Some of my best friends had already left Chicago and while I felt their absence keenly, it never struck me as a final goodbye. I have spent quite a lot of time with each of them since. Now it’s my turn.
I made my landfall in the United States, in Chicago, on 15th Aug 2009, as a wide-eyed, excited 23-year-old. Moving countries did fill me with a tad bit of trepidation, but the thought of a different, potentially better life, filled me with tingling anticipation. That continued through the movement of meeting new people, from different countries, mindsets, statures of life, ambitions, inhibitions, and desires of life. It was all extremely fascinating! I began to grow-up. I explored, shed my fears and hang-ups, bonded and ventured out into the intriguing landscape of marvelous possibilities (public transit being one of the first!). I was captivated by every single, momentous occurrence around me. The contemptuous pessimist in me became a cynical optimist, the introverted and judgmental streak of my character transformed into an outwardly warm/personable yet internally hypercritical persona. I began to question myself first and then others, if required. I began working in corporate America. I took every critique as a challenge because I refused to conform to a scheme. I am, after all, from Generation ‘Y’. A millennial. I have everything, I want more. I f***king grew up. I learned of myself and others. I learned from others, observing silently and trying quite unconsciously to make it my own. Apparently, something happened.
I’ve left now. I’m somewhere over the far Midwest, over mountains and lakes, clouds and nearing the Pacific northwest. I see vast swathes of green trees with streams slithering through them. I see no skyscrapers that to me have become the very embodiment of a city.
I identify more readily with big cities and it is that which I will crave for most. People are a different matter completely. I met some of my closest and best friends in Chicago - through college and work. They became my family of their own accord. What we've all been through, individually and as groups of people, brought us closer, tore us apart, forced us to confront and stand taller. I take all of that with me and hope it only makes me better.

Deciding to move is tough. Growing up, my Dad moved a few times, but I remained quite constantly with my grandparents and that is perhaps why this particular decision seems all the more personal. In the sense that I alone made that choice - with a lot or no thought at all. I don't have scrupulous answers to the question, "Why?", but I think I have enough to at least go for, "Why not?". This doesn't stop my uncertain subconscious from wondering if this is all a big mistake.

We're about to land in an hour and a half, and I'm now curled up in a soft blanket as the air hostess gives me a worried look. I think my eyes are red now.
I've done it. It's happened. It would be so simple to just go rushing back. I can absolutely find whatever it is I'm after. I made this choice for partially for my career, and I think I owe it to myself to battle it out. I will travel to new places, and meet different people. But I know I will always want to be back. In Chicago. In all honesty, Chicago might not be where I land up next. I could very easily move to a different country. But that's the chance and possibility I'm allowing myself to explore right now.


It’s not that I dislike Seattle. I simply love Chicago more. Most, even, because I can’t imagine going back to Bangalore, my hometown, but I do see myself coming back to and settling down in Chicago. Perhaps I’ll change my mind in the next few months or years about it, but for the time being, I am allowed the liberty of this claim. It is a heartfelt one. One I cannot but sincerely hope comes true – professionally and personally. Home is where the heart is, and right now it’s in Chicago because that IS where I did all my growing up and it remains where I hope to grow-up some more.





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