Chasing Wonder

It’s a matter of choice

I am in the tube returning home from Heathrow airport. I’ve just dropped my wife Namrata to the airport — she is flying to India — and for the next three weeks, I’m living solo here in London. It was the first time we’ve ever parted in the last 3 years. She is going to live my old Mumbai life while I’m here, living halved our joint life we’ve built together.

Over my 34 years of living, I’ve dropped many people off. To taxi stands, to the train stations, to airports. Each time I reach the port of departure, my emotions bubble up to the brim where I don’t want the journey to end. But it does for me and they go on ahead while I live with the feeling of being left behind. I’m happy for them, but it reminds me of my own need to wander, to disappear for a little bit and what is travelling if not disappearing from your everyday life?

While returning home that day, I am 5 stations away from my home when I started to feel it. This sense of missing, this longing. Had I made the right decision by staying back? Missing her and my self-doubts meld inside me like a little emotional turmoil and I almost break into tears.

I’d chosen to stay while Namrata visited India. Her work needed her there and mine needed me to stay. Practically, it made complete sense. Emotionally, it made zero sense. Neither of us wanted to part, either.

In the months leading up to her going, I imagined these weeks as a solo writers retreat, like the ones I used to have back when I lived in India. I’d write. I’d do my work. I’d accomplish everything I wanted to.

I am out of Zone One hurtling through Zone Two and toward Three. I’m specifying this detail as after Zone One in the underground tube you loose network. I’d stopped reading my book a while ago as I am not able to focus with the rising emotions. Had I made the right choice? Should I have gone with her? Will I go mad all alone? Or will I relish it?

The tube, thankfully, is relatively empty. An older lady opposite me is steadily scribbling away into her notebook. I smile at that. She writes in the tiniest of diaries with the tiniest of pencils. It is quite cute. A moment later, a kid runs past me chasing something. She stops at the central handrail and tries to cup a dragonfly into her little hands. She chases the dragonfly deeper into the compartment and finally, to the applause of everyone, she catches it. Or rather it sits proudly on her finger and she carries it back to her mom who clicks a picture.

A whirlwind of emotions run through me again: that’s what I long for, this absolute childlike freedom to chase wonder. In the compartment full of about 25 people, the little girl remains the only one who spotted the dragonfly and chased after it.

I smile and meet the older lady’s gaze who returns my smile. Most of the tube returns to their music/TV shows/books but the lady and I carry our faint smiles, acknowledging between us how wonderful a moment this is for the little girl and how lucky we are to witness it.

The moment slowly fades and I returned to my internal monologue of feeling my feelings of missing and longing and doubting myself again. Despite my earphones playing soft music, I hear a noise outside and it is the older lady gesturing for my attention. Once I look up, the lady smiles and points at my back pack. It sits between my legs on the floor and the dragonfly stares up at me.

The little girl arrives, kneeling next to my bag but before she tries to hold the dragonfly again, I lock eyes with the dragonfly. It tells me that the world is full of wonder and sometimes all you have to do is go out and look. And often enough, if you have faith, the wonder will come to you. Like I did, amongst all the people here, I choose you.

Of course, the dragonfly did not speak. But my brain has a way of giving voice to the voiceless. And in that wonderfilled moment, I knew I made the right choice.

Delivering its message, the dragonfly flies off. The girl chases after it, catching it again. She gets off with her mother at the same stop as me, the dragonfly perched carefully on her finger. She rides the escalator, taking it out of the underground tube line and out into the world alongside her.

And I do the same with that memory. Every time over the last few days I’ve wonder whether I made the right choice, I remember the dragonfly.

Some of the Wonder I Found

1. Hampstead Heath

On Friday, 26th, I got lost within the wilderness of Hamstead Heath. I absolutely love getting lost and I met some amazing trees and sights that will someday show up in my fiction, specifically that Hollow Tree.

2. Cooking a Feast

I moved to London on 20 September 2022, knowing only how boil and fry eggs. Three years later, I can prepare a whole feast to feed a family of 6. My ability to do so doesn’t wow me as much as my love for that ability. I never needed to cook in my old life in Mumbai and now not only can I but I love spending that dedicated time in the kitchen, finding new recipes and making them. Often times they are yum and I keep surprising myself with it. It’s like I’ve learnt a new language to express myself in.

I made a feast for my family here in London on my birthday just to mark my own progress in life. No pictures for this as my plating isn’t aesthetic. (Yet!)

3. The Moth Show

I attended the best Moth MainStage I’ve seen in the last few years. Great stories but each storyteller brought their A game. I’ve been inspired and my need to get up on that stage grows stronger with each show I attend. This particular one is going to remain in my memory for a long long while. It’s left a seed.

4. Stories

I’m in the midst of developing two new true stories for the stage. They both feel connected in weird ways and perhaps there is space for something much larger here. We’ll find out. I told one of the stories at a small open mic to test it out recently. And I’ll be doing a lot more tests to keep tweaking it further. It’s a fun little story and I can’t wait to complete it fully.

But the wonder remains in the conversations I have with people after the story is told. For someone who does not enjoy conversing with people, I really treasure these chats.

Until next month,

Hope it’s wonderful,

Akshay