Imperfectly Beautiful

What is the first thought that comes to your mind when I ask you to relate to ‘beauty’? Nature, love, people, food, music, or something else? But what if I tell you that beauty for me relates to chaos?

“Sneha! What is this dry leaf doing on the dining table?” my flatmate daunted at me as he rolled his querying eyes at the dry old leaf which was almost about to break into bits and tatters.

He impetuously flung it out of the window and with that, went my heart! Dismayed, I rushed to fetch it with the fear of the high-intensity breeze taking this beauty with itself. I hold it in my hands and glance at it. It looked enthralling. Though dried and curled up, it still looked charming as it danced in brown, the color signalising that ‘it was time to fade’.

I sit back on the grass awed at the difference of perspectives people could have about the same thing?

I arrived in New Zealand almost 2 years ago and one of my primary purposes of choosing this country for further studies was the comments commonly heeded “Oh my god!! That country is so beautiful! You are so lucky! That is my dream destination!” It is my mother’s favourite country too! Widely known for its magnificent landscapes and scenic locations, it was indeed a slice of heaven I was floored by. I could not wait to take a flight to this beautiful country and here I am! No lies but it was indeed more breathtaking than what I imagined and what people pictured it to be.

The routine was set and I began to live a life from another dimension here. My routine was very simple. It involved going to the campus for classes, walking back because I lived nearby and working on the weekends to cope up with the cost of living here.

The air was as fresh as the daisies and its coolness hit my nostrils with no traces of dust or pollution. The roads as clear as a crystal, so much of discipline with fewer troubles in regard to people, dollars to earn indicating a better standard of living, beautiful infrastructure, transport and other systems in place well – maintained, lip-smacking local food and restaurants, a mind – lingering lifestyle basically! Overwhelming isn’t it? What else would you want? I am sure most of the minds would race to settle down here.

Sitting in a public bus taking me to my work, I gaze at the changing skies flipping colors every day and adding glow to the overall scenery, I gaze at the flowers swaying and dancing the tunes of a gentle breeze, bright flowers enticing pleasance, I gaze at the bay waters, the country is blessed with a number of beaches, enticing calmness and tranquility. I go back to the thought when people asked and continue asking me,

“Why would you want to leave this country?” “What!?! Are you crazy? Who wouldn’t want to live in heaven?” “Why did you come here then if you did not want a Permanent Residence?” “Think about it Sneha, going back to the home country is going to do you no good!” and the worst of all,

“Don’t worry, you will eventually find your man here and settle down”. I let out a little snigger as I am startled with the ideas people have about my future more than my confidence in my decisions. Funny.

Enter. Home Country. Namaste!

Keeping aside all the economic, political, legal, educational, or industrial opinions and hatred, if I had to term life in the homeland, it was a chaotic outburst of colors one would be magnetically drawn to! Here comes my definition of beauty.

Even when the road I take to work here is spectacular with jaw-dropping landscapes in New Zealand, I miss the potholes I would unexpectedly bump into back then, it might sound a little offbeat but I miss the ear-tearing honking of vehicles, the ranting of the stressed drivers and hearing their vexed swearing when people drove into each other vehicles literally!

They always chose gratitude over everything!

I miss seeing those hungry eyes yet ‘at – peace’ souls on the streets asking for food or money. I miss their smiles and the gratitude they had towards what existed for them. I miss the hot air and the humidity in the climate which made me feel at life. The dust and the smoke had me constantly tie a scarf around my face to protect my skin and breathe better every time I stepped out.

The turbid uproar of the crowd in a vegetable market, buying, bargaining being one of the key attributes is where I find life. I feel an uncharted connection to people out there who are always up for a ‘chat and chai’ at any random time and share their stories with so much of ease and trust. What if I told you that I found more meaning in the eyes of the tea and street food sellers, the fruit hawkers soaking themselves in the sun with a hope of making business for the day.

The air that I breathed tantalised my senses with the aroma of ‘Wada pav’, an Indian version of a burger categorised as street food, the hot oil fuming from other Indian hot foods, simply nostalgic! I breathe in to recollect the aromas of it as opposed to the fresh air that misses those scents here. What if I told you that I miss spending a few coins on the street foods and bawling at the thought of that extra ‘puri’ I would get with my pani puri for free rather than spending dollars in a posh outlet here hoping for some similarity and justice to the taste back there but failing at it miserably.

I smile as I understand, fancy macaroons and fruity muffins cannot beat this feeling ever. 

The flamboyantly painted auto-rickshaws in a consistently flooding traffic had my heart. I miss this vehicle which is so cheap for commute and the conversations I would have with the rickshaw driver who would tell me about his life around the rickshaw.

Have you ever travelled in a local bus in India? People packed in like sardines but there is bliss when you notice different faces, a million stories in their eyes as opposed to the buses I board here. The greetings of the bus drivers are so warm and welcoming in NZ but what if I told you that I miss suddenly pulling the chain for a stop I already missed and the bus driver stopping the bus for me in the middle of the road! Crazy as it sounds!

There is no maid system in general where I stay currently. You are responsible for your own tasks which is a good thing. I have learned to cook, clean and be organised! But what if I told you that I miss my maid’s face who was as chirpy as a bird and would flash a wide smile with a pleasant greeting "Hi Didi! (Sister) How are you? Sorry I got late! I was fighting with my husband for coming home late and drunk yesterday!"I miss her stories. I miss being a part of her little world and her agony on my habits – one of them being showering late barring her chores.

What if I told you that earning over there in rupees was not an issue as perceived commonly because there was bliss in sharing it with your family?

What if I told you that the hustles there were not so treacherous as people assume it to be and you were never alone? As opposed to taking up things maturely and remaining strong forever here, what if your neighbours back there cared to poke their noses in your business and ask you “All okay? Come in for chai/coffee sometime” sensing your unusualness during your down tides?

What if I told you that I miss people? A lot of people. The drama is a key component of my homesickness! I have an emotional connection with the day to day humdrum affairs there and the noisy atmospheres as opposed to a tranquil life here with a handful of people around you living in their own worlds? There is indeed a difference between Life and Lifestyle!

Image Source: The Tap - Ramya Sriram

What if I told you that there was a missing element when I celebrate Diwali here despite decking up, decorating, meeting friends here and making it appear homelike? Am I the only one to miss family and the vibes you can only get in your home country with millions zealing with enthusiasm during this time, the scintillating diyas and creative Rangoli’ full of colors are something to breathe for!

The homeland has a quixotic and a mysterious charm of its own, something that cannot be boxed into a neat logical explanation.

What if I told you that comfort of my mother cooking for me was more appealing as opposed to self-cooking with failed attempts of matching her cooking styles and taste? What if I told you that there was life after a day ended at home as I miss visiting the food joints in the middle of the night in my city for some pocket-friendly food binging with my best friend?

What if I told you that watching so many hands in my tiffin box at work and hearing the loudest of laughter and chitter-chatter was indeed a euphoria as opposed to not eating together here as a part of people’s ‘own space’? What if eating all by yourself felt suffocating?

Tapri waale bhaiya and his bliss in the making.

What if the aroma of 'tapri waali chai' (roadside tea stall) made a delicate place in your heart, irreplaceable to all the exotic morning teas and high teas people fancy here?

New Zealand definitely offers me a lot more than just another normal day and I can't help but feel grateful for the experiences that I am gaining here. For many, living here is beautiful and harmonious. But what if I am in love with the imperfections? What if chaos is so appealing over too much of wellness?

Well, I am in love with the potholes, the spice markets and the captivating chaos!

What comes to your mind when you think of ‘beauty?’ Let me know in the comments.