Lately I’ve had Roots on my mind – the botanical kind, the metaphorical kind and the ties that bind. Unsurprisingly, all this interest in ‘delving deep’ arises from the fact that they’ve are also the theme of this week’s Take52 Photography Challenge!
I’ve said this before and I’m saying it again – I consider myself the proverbial ‘Rolling Stone’, one that gathers a few bits of moss while otherwise going about merrily on its way. It’s an existence that suits my restless soul, and so the question of being rooted in a place, while occasionally seductive, is never a long-term goal. But as with all things, times change; and with Junior’s schooling to think of, I cannot quite give in to the ‘traveling’ urge whenever it strikes, which is fairly often! Consider the facts – I have lived in one city but changed 4 houses in 10 years! The longest I’ve lived in any house as an adult is 4 years! I’ve grown up in Goa and that’s where I’ve lived the largest chunk of my life so far, and yet, I cannot and do not consider it ‘home’. Not in the way I would like to. It’s my parents’ home, the house I grew up in, became a doctor in, got engaged in, got married from, lost my brother in…but it is still most definitely my parents’ home – NOT mine. So although it’s most certainly the closest thing to home, it isn’t quite the same.
And so it got me thinking about what ‘Roots’ really means? I feel happily rootless for the most part and enjoy the feeling of belonging ‘everywhere in general but nowhere in particular’ Am I kidding myself? Living in denial? Probably. Should I be concerned at these divagations and get myself a settled life, whatever that means? (Ooh! The very thought sends shivers down my spine!) Or is being ‘Rooted’ just a feeling in our hearts, like Christmas?! I like to think it is – after all haven’t we all been taught, “Home is where the Heart is.” But the heart is unpredictable, a wayward mistress who pulls this way and that, going wherever fancy dictates She is redolent with good intentions but we all know where those may lead At the moment she has brought me to Bangalore and so I try to grow roots yet again, in another new city! Do you feel ‘rooted’ where you are? And I don’t just mean geographically.
I often feel I’ve been born in the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong everything – and yet I have no idea at all of what the ‘right’ time and place would look like. At times the restlessness is so acute, it’s hard to find focus. I feel like a caged bird, staring at the open door, my gift of flight forgotten. Maybe it’s the Sagittarian in me – the horse stamping his hooves, chomping at the bit to begin roving. So no…I’m not sure ‘Rooted’ is for me, or that I’ll ever be rooted in place, although Time shows more promise Somewhere deep inside I want to live in Narnia, in Middle Earth – walk among talking beasts and Fauns, commune with Elves and Hobbits and bask in the grace of Aslan When I look around me and see the World – ridden with strife and traumatised by the collective abuse of us arrogant humans – I want so desperately for the fantastical to be real. A sanctuary from all the chaos. If wishes were horses eh?
And so I try as best I can to bestill my aching heart, when that wanderlust strikes. And I think about where I might put down roots if I had to. Then I close my eyes and dream – of Narnia