In Search of the End of the Road

I suppose I’m a shifty character. Wait, let me explain. I’m not saying I’m deceitful, devious or particularly insincere. What I meant is, I’m always ‘shifting.’ Moving, that is. Moving from one house to another, changing neighbourhoods, moving from one city to the next… again and again, all over the country. It wasn’t always like this. I did stay in my hometown, Lucknow, for the first twenty years of my life though even there I did move houses four times over those two decades. But after I moved out of Lucknow, to Bareilly, moving from one place to the next became the norm in my life. From Bareilly to Baroda to Bareilly to Lucknow to Bombay to Pune to Bombay to Dehradun to Greater Noida to Dehradun to Greater Noida to Bombay to Pune to Greater Noida. That’s more than a dozen moves between six different cities spread across four different States across the country. And that doesn’t even include the number of times I moved houses within the same city!

Over the course of their careers, many people do move between different cities, sometimes even from one country to another. But for the vast majority of people, moving twenty times or more, over two or three decades, may not be ‘normal.’ My wife, who’s always been very patient and accommodating, has always stood firmly beside me, offering valuable support and encouragement as I’ve traipsed across the country, often on short notice. As I’ve hopped, skipped and jumped from this to that, trying my hand at different things – rarely succeeding at anything, often failing at most – she has suffered because of me, because of my lack of ability to stick to any one thing or one place for very long. She has suffered without complaining, despite many lost friendships, the sheer tedium of repeatedly packing and unpacking our entire household, the challenges of adapting to new cities and new neighbourhoods. Again. Again. And yet again. Now, after more than two decades of marriage and as we’re both getting a bit older – entering the sixth decade of our lives – she remains steadfast in her support for me and for whatever I choose to do next, but I’m sure she now hopes that we’ll finally settle down in one place for good and stop gallivanting across the length and breadth of the country.     

Why am I bringing this up now, after so many years of being on the move? That’s because at the end of this month, we’re moving houses once again, albeit in the same city, not too far from where we are currently. And that’s not the end of it either; after a few months, maybe 6-8 months from now, we know we have to move again, to a different city. Due to a set of complicated and very difficult circumstances, I have come to believe – strongly and with complete conviction – that Greater Noida, where we’re currently based, is simply not for us. While we’re spent almost ten years here, I’ve grown to dislike this place (won’t get into the reasons for that because then this piece will get way too lengthy) over the years and want to move to a smaller, quieter city. One where we can hopefully spend the rest of lives peacefully. In one house. Without having to move again. Ever.

My wife prefers to live in big, bustling cities where there’s no dearth of malls and multiplexes and things to do. My son, who’s about to get into college, is a smart, active young man who’s made for big cities like Delhi, Bombay or Bangalore – that’s where his future is. On the other hand, my dream is to live a quiet, simple life in some small town – or maybe even a clean, quiet village – in Himachal or Uttarakhand or perhaps somewhere in the North-East. Or maybe in some small, quiet seaside town or village. In a small, simple, independent, standalone house. Definitely not in a multi-storied apartment inside a ‘gated community.’ I absolutely don’t want a gym, clubhouse and swimming pool. I do want to be near an ocean or somewhere up in the hills. A small house, ideally one with a small lawn out at the front, and a small yard at the back where we can grow some vegetables. The only things I want to insist upon are a clean, quiet neighbourhood, a lack of traffic, some blessed solitude and broadband Internet connectivity. I don’t want a car and don’t need the convenience of 10-minute delivery apps. I’d be happy if I have a scooter and will use that to shop for groceries once or twice a week. I want to spend half my time doing work (via the aforementioned Internet) that I find interesting and which is useful in some meaningful way. And the other half, I want to spend in reading books, playing my music synthesizer, watching a movie or two sometimes, maybe teaching a few classes at the local school for small children and, depending on where we finally decide to settle down, just sitting quietly somewhere up in the hills or on a beach, next to the sea, in the evenings. Far, far away from other people, from traffic, from loudspeakers, from housing societies, from malls and multiplexes… very far away from the modern world and the ways in which it now functions, ways that I often don’t understand, ways that I have failed to adapt to.

Flights of fancy? Maybe. Wishful thinking? Perhaps. But then, who knows. Sometimes dreams do come true. All I can do is hope that after moving around endlessly for the last few decades, my long-suffering wife and I can finally find some peace. I hope we can find a place that we like and love, a place where we can be happy, where we can spend the rest of our lives doing things we enjoy. Finding such a place is certainly not going to be easy, but I do hope – and pray – we find such a place. And once we do, that we never have to move out from there again, ever.