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Coming Home

I made it. I really made it. I have started the next phase of my life. Looking back at almost 3 years ago, I was on the right side of the 20s, busting out of my cocoon and exploring the wide world out there. And I loved it. And then I realised what I had done. I had left behind everything that mattered to me. I am coming home to my beloved city. For those who follow my blog, you know that I do ramble on and on about Vancouver. But I am home now. And I am secure enough to know that where ever I may end up in life and whatever I may do, I will always have two homes: Vancouver (and Canada in general) and India, where I was born and lived for the first half of my life.

As I sit here, just past my 13th year living in North America, I realise that I have almost spent half my life here. Between Vancouver and DC, the last 13 years have had its fair share of ups and downs, opportunities gained and dreams crushed. As I look back at why I came here, I am more certain that the choices that were made for me have moulded me into the person I am. I have met some wonderful people, made life long friends with a select few and will be forever thankful for all the experiences I have endured.

Canada gave me a home. Not because I didn't have one or because I was fleeing persecution or anything. I was an economic immigrant. My parents believed there were greener pastures out here. I cannot gauge their success for it is only theirs to pass judgement on, but I can say that while there are days when I still wonder why we all packed up those suitcases and left our home for this cold and sometimes dreary place, I am always reminded of what we have achieved as a family and what I have accomplished as a human being. It may not be much, but to me it is everything. It defines who I am and more importantly, it is the foundation on which I will have to build myself. To grow, one needs a firm foundation. And between the two countries that are 12994 kilometres apart, I have got the best foundation I could ever hope for.

I come home to Canada, after spending 3 New Years and Christmases and birthdays away from my family. I come home a dozen or so kilograms heavier. I come home knowing that some of the most influential people in my life live in DC. I come home knowing that they will always be there when I IM them, ready with advice, genuine support and all round friendship. I appreciate that. I come home a little older and a lot more grown up than when I left. And I am at peace with that. My 3 year old adventure in DC is coming to a close and I have had the best outcome possible: I keep my job, I keep my sanity, I keep my friends (even if they are 3800 Km and 3 hours apart). I leave knowing that some people really are more than just random friends; they are people who will pitch in and adopt you for a couple of weeks at a time because you are in a bind and will make your time there the most pleasant in memory, they are people that I will some day see again, and be able to return the favour.

I come home humbled by life. When I left, I barely knew what life was, though I thought I did. I thought it meant going to work every day, excelling at it and earning money and then going out and spending it all on things that I can scarcely remember. I come back knowing that there are far more important things out there, from human relationships to broadening one's horizons, from facing challenges to succeeding (and failing) at them. I come back knowing that I can take care of myself, that I can live by myself and that I can actually do that well. I also come back knowing what is important to me. My life is important. My health is important. My family and friends and dogs are important. Most importantly, my sanity and happiness are important.

I know that over the course of my life I will find reasons to complain about all sorts of things. I think that is human nature (and I hope that it is not unique to me). I hope that when I go down that road of doom and gloom again (whether for legitimate reasons or not) that I will recall all the good that came of my time in DC and of how important home is for me. In Vancouver, I have found that perfect home. A good friend once told me home is where your family is. And she's right. Except family in this case is a bit larger than the ones you are related to by blood. The family ties she meant are the ties one has to the community, to the city and to the ideas that make Canada what they are. It is a place where an immigrant can come and retain his immigrant culture. It is a place where immigrants of different ethnicities can hang out with each other in perfect harmony. It is a place where the true beauty of nature can be seen, enjoyed and mourned (for it is not perfect).

Every time I fly into Vancouver, I look out of the window and try and pick out as many things as I can. From the building where my friend used to live, to the IKEA in Richmond, this is my home now. This is my family. This is my tribe and my community. This is the best place on earth (well, its a tie with India :) ). It is our home and native land. With a Sovereign and a Westminster style of democracy and with abundant socialist leanings, this is my home. This is my home because it works for me. This is my home because it makes me happy. This is also the home where I will pay more for almost everything compared to DC. But I think I will gladly pay that price differential. Because I don't think I can put a price on my happiness.

I am just excited to be home. To take a stroll down memory lane and to make new memories. To meet old friends and make new ones, to see old landmarks and experience new ones, to conquer the next mountain that is out there and to beat my time up the Grouse Grind. This is home.

The moral of the story here is, follow your dreams and never forget what you have. Because sometimes, just sometimes, you will find out that what you have and gave up is more important than anything else you may find. Tread softly, but leave footprints and never forget the journey I suppose. I love life.

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