Take Me Home

I am in an alien land but I am not alone. Away from my country, in a place full of Indians, I am another Indian. Here are some things that have reminded me that I am in a new place and made me think of home (Delhi/Bombay/India) in small ways over the last 2 weeks:

• A hoarding for Titan, with Rani Mukherji's face on it
• A poster advertising Jat Airways, which made me smile, laugh and then say "Oh!" when I discovered that it is not a carrier bringing Jats to the Middle East, but a Serbian airline
• A 50 paise coin that met my searching hands as I groped for a lost piece of paper in the bottom of my handbag
• The sudden music of an unseen person on the road below hawking and then spitting with gusto
• The smell of jeera frying as I cook on a hotplate
• Loudspeaker somewhere playing "Aalo Aalo"
• Supermarket shelves selling Amul butter and Mother's pickles
• The local dhobi going by on a bicycle

The list could go on, just like Indians go on coming to Dubai. Yes, Indians live in Dubai, and in many ways, so does India. But it is still not home.