As far back as I can remember, I have been really excited to leave India. I always felt that I couldn’t be happy with what I had, or with what I would have.
I once read somewhere that all you really need for your opinion to change, is another opinion.
One month in Singapore gave me that opinion.
When it got really close to leaving Mumbai, I was stressed. I tried to downplay it by reminding myself that this was what I’d wanted for years. That no matter how many times mom cried before I left I was going to be okay because I wanted this.
I have approximately five friends who have studied in different countries and come back home. They’ve talked about clean roads and beautiful streets, or about fancy libraries and vintage bookstores. They talk so much about new people, new people who’ve now become forever people, or about how much they hated coming back.
But what no one actually tells you is that all of it takes time. That it takes months to make forever people; to make a different country something you don’t want to come back from. No one tells you that the first week you spend in a new bed with new roommates will make you miss the small room you shared with your brother. No one also tells you that spending one festival away from your family will make you homesick in ways you can’t even imagine.
I think people do this knowingly. I think that no one ever tells you the bad parts so that you look at the good parts and think that this will be the best part of your life. I think that no one wants you to know that they struggled. This way when you tell them that you are struggling, its a new thing and they can pretend like they never went through it.
One month in Singapore has taught me so much. But mostly its taught me that I could have been happy with what I had, or with what I was going to have.