I remember the time I went to a CTS interview in 2014. The interviewer asked me how I felt about moving to North India, if I get appointed there. I told him, “I am from a village deep south. I have never been out of my house till I completed my school. It was really difficult for me to stay outside my home in Chennai. But I am used to it. If I am staying out of my home, it doesn’t matter whether I stay in Chennai or stay in Delhi. It is gonna be the same for me”. I was successfully rejected in that interview for unknown reasons though.
However, I got my joining letter from KPIT Technologies, my work location was Bangalore. There was a small panic when I left my home, because I literally didn’t know whom to contact and how to find a place to stay. That was probably the first moment, I realised why it was good to have a few friends around. I did have a few supporting hands in Bangalore. To my surprise, shopkeepers in Bangalore were well-versed in Tamil. So, it was a bit of a cake walk for me.
The most challenging experience to me was when I had to move to Pune. When I heard that I have an opportunity to work in Pune, I was finding all possible reasons to avoid it. My theory about home and away was still the reason but this time Bangalore actually felt like a home. I never had a better home than Bangalore. It had everything for me that I missed since my childhood. I didn’t have to act like someone else. I had to be whomever I really wanted and still got accepted by a group of people. It wasn’t a dream job, but I still loved it.
I was working in a team of six freshers, who were managed by 7 managers to do literally nothing. We were having fun during our extra long tea breaks and recreation breaks after everyday status reporting. There were discussions and silly arguments about movies, sports, health and fitness almost every time. I gave up running the race to be ambitious and gave myself a break. That was probably the first time I associated myself to a group of friends in my entire life. More than everything, I didn’t have to speak a language that I was not comfortable with.
Finally I had it all settled. And then the shock. I was asked to move to Pune in less than a week. I wished that I didn’t have to go. We were fighting for the two spots left in Bangalore, so that the rest four could go. I couldn’t win the fight and I had to pack my bag. When the journey took more than 12 hours, I was already exhausted to even try to love the new atmosphere.
Nothing was similar. When I saw a few people walking on Anna Hazare getup (pyjamas and kullas), I was like, “Did I just take the time travel bus? These people seem to be going to protest against the British Raj”. I was preparing myself to be brutally punched in the face with Hindi words. I was getting my basics ready.
To my surprise, the office conversations were not in Hindi. They were conversing in Marathi. Bangalore office was such a place, where there were people from South India, who didn’t have a common language. So, we used to speak in English. I wasn’t expecting that in Pune. I knew that North India had a common language and they were proud to speak in Hindi. Realizing that Pune office had a huge majority of Maharshtrians and the office had Marathi as a primary language was a little hard. I might have realised it much earlier, had I worked on a city like Chennai, where the local Tamil population is huge and the primary language of communication could have been Tamil.
A typical meeting in Pune would start in English and gradually move to Marathi. Then I would have to raise a concern. Their stereotypical response would be, “Arre! Me to bool gaya aap ko Marathi aata nahi. Mein ne bola ki….”. Amapke raincoat. Then I would have to use all my listening sense to interpret to understand Hindi, get exhausted and request them to speak in English. Much worse was when some over patriotic Maharashtrians would expect me to speak Marathi, when I would be stammering with my broken Hindi.
After that would be the people who did not know how not having a common language worked. They used to confuse about the language that we speak in South India and made huge mix ups such as, “South India has four states. Their capital is Chennai. They all like Rajinikanth. They speak Kannada. Their cinema industry is not Bollywood, it is Tollywood. They have beautiful coconut beaches everywhere”. It took me a while to recognise that they actually did not have an understanding about South India.
From my childhood I always believed that India was my home but being in North India didn’t feel like home to me. I had bad socializing skills. I was too uninterested in small talks and I was least bothered about mastering Hindi. I liked the place more than the people. I used to take the long routes from office to residence. I was attached to the roads and climate instead of the people. I wanted to move to other unknown cities and explore more and more.
A wave of trouble drowned me in the sea when I thought I had swam across the lake of alienness. I was so helpless and lonely as I got severe jaundice. There was literally no one around almost all day. It was not anyone’s fault. I didn't know that roads and climate would not help me when I get sick, but people would. I invested so much time in exploring the geography of the new place rather than the culture of the people. I had the worst fears and even believed like a fool that I would die in my room alone.
I took a break from Pune and returned home for the treatment. Home felt like home. My brain was relaxed as the load of translating an alien language was off finally. I wanted to come back to my comfort zone. I was done walking like an alien on the roads of Pune.
When I returned to Pune, it was already Diwali. I was possibly the only one non-local person working in the office during the week of Diwali. It was painful that there was nowhere to go and celebrate Diwali. The roads I used to walk were converted to special Diwali markets. I was there alone watching everyone enjoying their shopping with their family. There was nothing I wanted to buy but I was simply watching people and envying them.
I simply booked tickets for three movies that were released that week. Finally the day of Diwali came. I woke up early, took an oil bath in hot water. I missed my home so much. I dressed up well and went to the food court, where I used to have idlis daily. It was empty. There was a senior supplier, his assistant (junior) and me in the whole food court. I was a bit depressed because I was probably the only person to eat in that canteen when everyone got to go home.
The owner wasn’t there. The senior supplier noticed me coming everyday. When he saw me coming in, he signalled me to take the seat. The junior supplier came to me. The senior shouted, “Arre! Usko 4 idli dedo. Sambhar oopar dalke”. He smiled at me. I smiled at him back. I was so pathetic that I didn’t even know his name. I used to see him everyday but never bothered to say a Hi. He noticed me because I asked him not to give Sambhar in a bowl and instead pour it over the idlis.
I sent the money in PayTM while he was getting me the food. I showed him the payment confirmation from a distance. When the food arrived, I saw that there was a Gulab Jamun in a bowl along with idlis, chutney and sambhar. I saw the Gulab Jamun and saw the junior, who had supplied me the food. He signalled me to look at the senior. I looked at the senior. He said something in Hindi, which meant, “Today is a happy day. Nobody should be lonely or sad. Happy Diwali”.
I was out of words. Sometimes the blows of joy are heavier than those of sorrow. There were so many differences between us. I didn’t even know who the supplier was. He was merely a labour and the canteen owner would have punished him for giving sweets for free. He didn’t care about all that. He saw that I was sad and lonely. He wanted me to smile on the day of Diwali. So he made it happen.
That is what it actually means to be a home. When people around you care about your happiness without any expectation, that makes it your home. We had our own linguistic and cultural differences. It was all broken with his token of unconditional love. I never regretted being in Pune again. I never felt like I was away from home after that.
Perhaps, this is what is meant by when we say, “All Indians are my brothers and sisters”. This is our homeland despite all our differences. Let’s all cherish our unity during this auspicious day, which marks the fruit of the unity of our grandparents.
Happy Independence Day.
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