Hiraeth

by Kruti Joshi (India)

Making a local connection Singapore

"Aren't we all humans lost without a purpose always searching for a place to call home" i could recall Ahmed saying that to me in his rustic husky voice.As I roamed the streets of lucknow I could picture Ahmed as a 17 year old boy confined in the four walls of his run down house with his aged parents and five elder siblings. I had a strange feeling of nostalgia towards memories that didn't belong to me. The aroma of the kebabs, vendors selling sweets in the cramped streets of hazratganj transported me back to the well kept Indian restraunt I had visited in Singapore. With its intricate design that was redolent of an Indian village , heavenly scent of masala curry and very charismatic staff it was nothing less than perfect yet the only customer inside the diner a man about 70 years of age sat in the corner with a brooding face. Being bored of the constant blabbering between my parents I focused my attention onto the strange man occupying the table next to me . Soon the restraunt started filing up with more people as the pink skies diffused to colourless and then the wan light of the moon painted the city. The strange men now had a companion and the two seemed to be in a deep conversation of which I could catch chunks and pieces. "Home......ahh long time...... it's been 50 years since I had been there." the strange man said to which his companion replied ".....did you visit your place?....." and then the strange men had continued on about how instead of his house there now stood a mall and all the old lanes had skyscrapers adorning them, that's all I could get from their conversation before both of them left the restraunt and I once again returned to the conversation between my parents.The next morning while standing in the queue for a taxi at my hotel lobby I saw a familiar face greeting us with an 'Adaab' wearing the bellboy's uniform it was the same man from the restraunt. Unable to do away with my curiosity I approached the man with a shy namaste and told him I had seen him at the restraunt yesterday. He gave me a faint smile and then continued greeting the other guests as they approached. Baffled by his callous attitude I had no idea how to go on with the conversation so me being the mouthy person I am blurted out that I had heard about his conversation yesterday and it had fascinated me. Gauging his reaction I looked up to see a stoic expression replacing his smile and in a gruff voice he asked me what my age was, interpreting his question as an ice breaker I told him I was 17 and that I was from lucknow in India. Hearing lucknow his gaze softened back then I didn't know that it was his hometown as well. "Oh do you know the chowk area, I used to live close to the rumi darwaza " he replied . "When did you leave India then and how did you come to Singapore of all places?" I questioned him that was when I came to know that at the age of 17 young Ahmed tired of his impecunious lifestyle and abusive household had stolen from his mother's employer and boarded a flight to Singapore the cheapest flight to an international country at that time. He craved for a place where he would feel at home but in Singapore he had to face the harsh reality of being a foreigner in a country that would never call him his own. He had worked odd jobs throught his life and had learned that the world would always be cruel to the penniless chap. Fifty years later he had gone back to visit his old house and was taken back to see that it had been demolished to dust. He had spent his whole life homesick wether it was in a dingy house in lucknow or in a lavish hotel at Singapore. His harsh reality was that he truly had no place he could call home.