Life Update – Moving To Canada

On 27th January, 2017, we made a great leap. Like, literally. We will leapt over half of the earth, all the way to Canada. After almost 1 1/2 years of patience, preparation and prayers, the moment had finally arrived.

My mind is still whirling. I’m both excited and anxious. Its like visiting another planet. We even landed smack dab into the middle of a Canadian winter. Everything is going to be new, and we have start from square one. But at twenty-six, am I too old to learn new tricks? *nervous laugh*

I’m a second generation ‘Gulf’ kid. Hordes of Indians migrated to the GCC to make fortunes, and to help their homelands prosper. I am truly thankful to this endeavour by our forefathers because it has given us many valuable things. But three years in Dubai, the hedonistic capital of the GCC, had got me yearning for more meaning.
And so, we decided to take this risk. The risk of leaving behind a comfortable life to tread unknown waters. The risk of being so far away from our beloved parents and family. This is for us and our children to come. I think it is now our generation’s time to endeavour, looking for better oppurtunities.

The journey to Canada was full of hiccups and if it weren’t for our excitement for landing here we would have been burnt out completely. A day before our connection flight from Kochi to Delhi, my husband and baby boy contracted viral fever. Then the Air India flight from Kochi was delayed by two hours which made us miss our Air Canada flight from Delhi to Toronto. We had to stay in Delhi to catch the next Air Canada flight the following day. Owing to this, we lost our booking for infant meals and premium leg room seats which would have been crucial for the long flight.

The worst was to come when we entered the flight. It was a 14 hour flight and our baby decided to cry for fourteen straight hours. I cannot explain how harrowing it felt to see him cry like that. He had never cried so badly on any other occassion. It got so severe that we had people coming up and asking us what was wrong and to do something to stop the baby from crying. We were so helpless, we tried everything under the sun.

Miraculously, when there was just half an hour left for landing, he stopped crying. He returned to his playful self and hogged down a packet of biscuits to satisfy the hunger that he had raked up during his 14 hour crying fit. He drank a whole bottle of water. We were baffled, but we were so relieved.

Our landing process went by swiftly with no hiccups. The officer who processed our landing papers, with a disarming smile and an open demeanour set our first impression of Canadians. We proceeded to the luggage carousel, and found out that one of our bags was missing. The baggage official assured us that our bag was with the aircraft, and will be sent to our place of residence later.

We got onto our Uber to our hotel, where we slept like logs after our tiresome flight.

I hope that the optimism and perseverance does not run out too soon because there are surprises hidden everywhere. The game plan now is to keep navigating around these surprises and to hope to reach a time and place where we know Canada by heart.

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Why I Want to Write

I want to write because that’s the only thing I believe I can do well. I was never good at math or science. I was never good at remembering dates of battles or the names of obscure leaders. The first people to point out my ability to write were my English teachers. When there came the question of choosing a vocation, I knew I didn’t look forward to a life of cooking three meals a day and keeping house. So I chose to write.

I am always wandering around with ideas clamoring in my head. If they are not let out through some channel, it feels like a suppressed bladder. Or even worse, like suppressed gas. Writing helps me relieve this suppression. Sometimes, in a fit of inspiration, I grab my phone and rapidly jot down stuff in my note app. If I have no access to writing, I talk to myself. So naturally, I could relate to the mind of a writer.

I would normally think twice before calling myself a writer. The label seems too accomplished for someone like me. With two failed blogs and a career that refuses to take off, along with a toddler who has an uncanny aversion to me picking up a mobile device or a letter pad, I have very little to prove myself. But I have always wanted a place inside the writer community, however peripheral it may be. Hopefully, this blog will be the beginning to a successful foray into my dream job.

In today’s age, everyone is obliged to write properly. It has become one of those everyday things just like addition and subtraction. If you have a social media account, you probably have an opinion about everything. If you want that opinion to be heard, you need a good hold over language.

But there is a difference between writing properly and writing well. The difference lies in seeing things creatively. In being affected by simple things. In being able to bring out to the world the magic in those simple things. In short, proving to us that we are still humans. Good writing, and art in general, reminds us that we humans are not doomed just to run the rat race that we run everyday. It shows us that we can experience a whole new level of consciousness filled with happiness, awe and inspiration.

It is, hence, a high aspiration to write well. And despite the nagging self-doubt, that is what I aspire to do.