💫 bittersweet journeys
the baggage we carry
“Some crossings you pay for your whole life”, Past Lives, 2023
My parents immigrated to the US many years ago, and we visit our homeland India every few years.
I have fond memories from childhood trips to India. I remember riding on the front platform of our “vespa”, my grandpa driving me to get fresh coconut water from the outdoor market. I remember running around motorcycles, cars, and pillars on the ground floor of our building with cousins and neighbors. I remember my aunts and uncles treating me to street corn, the smell of smoke, lemon, and spices filling the air. I remember how long each day felt, but how exciting it would be when we would go meet someone new, a third or fourth degree family connection.
Then, I got older. Instead of trips stretching through the summer, they stretched a few weeks. I became cautious about the street food, stressed by the traffic, and overwhelmed from the crowds. I still enjoyed being with family, but I couldn’t tease that apart from the culture shock. I couldn’t blend into the Indian lifestyle as easily as I did as a kid.
Some time later I visited as an adult, most recently a month ago. My values are solidified, and they decidedly don’t align with my family in India. I can’t ignore the deeply rooted patriarchy. I can’t ignore the worrying trends in politics. I can’t ignore the growing pains of city life there, the pollution and traffic, which seem to get worse each trip. It is decidedly not a life that I would choose, yet it’s a world that I can’t seem to let go of.
The family memories from all my India trips stay with me. I remember interactions with each of my extended family members vividly. Maintaining relationships is harder as an adult, though. Eventually I won’t have the buffer of my parents in my visits, and it’ll be up to me to keep the relationships I care about. I’ll remember everyone, but many may not remember me given how infrequently I appear in their lives.
I’ve been grappling with this in the weeks after my recent trip. It was the most memorable yet, but also a reminder of how fleeting my time is in India. As a kid, life feels endless. There are infinite trips to come. As an adult, I know that is not the case. I’ve likely spent most of the time with them that I ever will. There’s unfortunately no easy solution to this. My family is scattered across the globe. Phone calls help and Facetime is adequate, but it’s just not the same. It is a chronic homesickness that is temporarily assuaged but never truly gone.
It is the price paid for a life well lived in the United States. “Some crossings you pay for your whole life,” as the quote goes from Past Lives when the main character ruminates on her lost relationship from her childhood in Korea. I am endlessly grateful for the opportunities I have in my life currently. It is a privilege to get to live and work here, something millions dream of. My quality of life is objectively better than it would have been if I lived in India, but I also can’t discount the relationships I don’t get to have living here.
Many people live with this tension, and many feel it in much bigger ways. I am lucky I get to visit as much as I do. We all have our versions of the coconut water, motorcycles, and street corn to remember fondly. These memories are ingrained in us, influencing who we are, even if they are not expressed often. The best we can do is hold space for what has been lost, and make the most of what we have.
💫 digital serendipity
Some recent content standouts:
This was an insightful listen on how to discover your taste in the age of algorithm-delivered content. Media platforms highlight content they think you would like, even if it’s not what you want to like. It was a good reminder to more actively curate what I consume, even if it adds friction day to day.
Consuming better content leads to creating better content. I enjoyed Nikhil’s piece on committing to your craft and becoming an “Art Goblin”.
And for once in my life, after often feeling so un-ambitious about many things and trying to focus on doing things for the sake of myself, flint struck tinder within my chest, and sparks began to fly. I wanted to be an art goblin, I wanted to be a great writer, I wanted to shoot for undeniable.
