A Moving Experience





There is something about the process of moving that bears proof to the human capacity to adapt.

 

Stage 1: Home Here is a familiar setting. You look around to make a visual imprint in your memory of what your home looks like as you see it in all its familiarity for the last time.

 

Stage 2: Rupture It takes only a couple of minutes for the all-comfortable home to transform into the irreversible moving scene. Boxes, the ever so elusive tape and scissors that sneak off together at the first chance they get, clothes, paper, garbage and most importantly all those things you thought you could never live without that suddenly take on a dispensable appearance- the little box you though could be converted into a ‘oh so cute’ letter holder, the cool key chain in the shape of a football helmet that also doubled up as a bottle opener, the wrapper of the first candy you shared the special someone who is not so special anymore. Chaos is slowly sorted and packed in neat boxes and taped off. Oh the glorious sound of the tape being stretched taut over a well packed box brimmed with chunks of your life. And then of course the sinking feeling of ‘Did I pack that?’ that warrants the undoing of the day’s labor in search of the small trinket that has been tucked into your purse all this while.

 




Stage 3: Dislocation It is amazing how heavy a burden we carry throughout our lives and how much heavier they get as days go by. In my case my burdens comprised mostly of books and some furniture. Hauling these through the streets and places that would separate you from all that was familiar, you find yourself at a new threshold. Empty walls welcome you with the telltale marks of previous homes dismantled. Suddenly all the chaos and disorganization has found a new address. It sits perched at every empty space that you or (if you are rich) your movers found to stack them. You and your life’s burdens have a roof again.

 

Stage 4: Home again. I think it is the instinct for nesting. Restlessness creeps in as soon as the sweat has been cooled off by the noisy fan in the living room that you mean to talk to your landlord about. With renewed energy whose source remains a mystery, you find yourself creating order again from amidst the chaos. Imaginative visions that had appeared when you first saw the house come to life with some successes and some disappointments as you find that the futon you so wanted in that corner does not fit in there at all, or that the ‘great spot for the TV’ is a room length away from the cable point. Familiar sights emerge from the many boxes and take on old places within new settings and you are home again as old stains and dust outlines fade on empty walls, becoming the familiar again.

 

~ Kingkini Arend | Edited by Farrokh Jijina

 


Image source: flickr.com


 

 


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