Migratory Wings

Looking out of the plane's window, the vast expanse of the blue skies came greeting me. The loneliness of the skies was dotted with the fragmented and scattered white clouds. Just like the wandering threads of thoughts in my mind! Or may be it was simply mirroring my mind! 

The plane had taken off the Mumbai air space and was heading towards UAE. To give me company this time was my kiddo and many random thoughts!

He never thought even once, I reiterated this sentence. Probably this was the anthem for me in those days. My better half had decided to take a leap and go beyond the boundaries to better his resume. I was left with the choice, join me or otherwise, no issues!

I had my high flying career and family life at war heads, courtesy his decision. Reluctantly and after giving a considerable thought, I took the decision to join him. It took me almost six months to take this step.  So here I was on board with my son flying off to Sharjah. From take off till landing at Sharjah, I was cursing my decision. But I could no way reverse the clock now…

Things do settle down in life. One needs patience to see the dust settling. And it did. Life was back on track in less than six months.

Courtesy my son, I soon had many new friends. Mothers of his friends, were my new bunch of friends too. Coming from an orthodox background, accepting the friends from different faiths and countries was little difficult. But being alone and lacking the support of the extended family in the foreign land were good enough the reasons to cling to this bunch!

My first two friends in Sharjah were a Lebanese mother of twins and Syrian  grandmother. They both did not know anything other than Arabic and French and I was helpless beyond English. Kids then turned our interpreters! Beyond the barrier of the language, lived and thrived our friendship. I woke up to the reality that no matter what country you belong to, no matter where you pray, no matter whether you are a vegetarian or otherwise, the concerns of a mother remain the same... her brood, her family! Sick kid worries every mother alike irrespective of the language she speaks. And one more surprising discovery was our common concern… Getting a good maid!

Celebrating Eid and Christmas along with the Diwali became the norm of the year for us. Thanks to friends from every state of India, we learnt about Baisakhi, Onam, Vishu, Karava Chauth and many such. Feasting on Kadhi Pakoda Chawal on Baisakhi was enjoyed with same fervor as having scrumptious Sadhya on banana leaf on Onam. I learnt a lot of Punjabi and South Indian cuisine too! My gurus were none other than my friends, who not only taught me to cook but also pampered me with their delectable preparations!

My vision broadened and so did my identity. I started identifying myself as an Indian rather than anything else. Over these years I learnt that relationship need not only be sealed by birth or blood. Strong and lasting kinship can also be built gradually over mutual trust beyond blood relations.

Seven years stint at Sharjah made me a content and tolerant person, compassionate and accommodating  as well than my earlier avatar! 

It was a blessing in disguise, I now contemplate. Migratory wings have ushered new colourful horizons in our lives. Happiness doesn’t has just one address, isn’t it?

-----By MocktailMommy Anagha

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.