I was surprised last week by a single ray of bright sunlight finally sneaking into my room here in Wageningen. The yellow beam traced a path across my colourful rug and tapered off at the suitcase I was using to pack away all my winter clothes. Sitting in the warm sunshine, I could close my eyes and almost imagine myself back home in South India.
It was not so long ago that I had a similar moment with the same suitcase lying open before me. It was late August, I had just received my Dutch visa and needed to fly out from Bangalore to Amsterdam the next day. So I couldn’t put off packing any longer.
My resolve to do a Master’s abroad prompted me to make many big decisions about my life – like the financial investment and everything that goes with it. It also prompted a hundred smaller decisions – like what to carry across the world with me. The airline permitted me to carry 26 kilos of my current life into the new one. What would you choose?
The airline permitted me to carry 26 kilos of my current life into the new one. What would you choose?
Next to the suitcase, I had a small mountain of things given by well-wishers. As I gazed into the empty cavity of the bag, I wondered about the implications of leaving some of these behind. Would it mean I loved them less? That somehow it meant I was leaving them behind as I moved on?
On that day, the sky was a clear, brilliant blue and dappled sunshine streamed through the windows, blinking lazily on the walls. The leaves of the jamun tree outside rustled every now and then as the birds wove their way through, feasting on the juicy, purple fruit. My dog Thor lay snoring close by. My nephew’s gleeful laughter rang through the air. The things that made home home.
For one wild moment, I imagined grabbing all of it – the sunshine, the sounds, the snoring dog, the delicious slowness and comfort of the afternoon – stuffing them into my bag and zipping it shut. It would never make it through customs.
Boisterous laughter from the next room broke through my daydream. It took me a minute to refocus to the present. Smells of dinner being made, soft music playing in the background and my housemates calling me to the table. A new home. More things that will not fit in my suitcase when I fly back.
Ananya Doraswamy is a Master’s student 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.
