After spending a month at Princeton, the part of my life before I came here seems almost like a dream. The first 18 years of my life are a blur. I have vague recollections of applying to 20 universities in a period of four weeks and the mad frenetic excitement that ensued when I was accepted to Princeton. From a very young age, I knew that I would do my undergraduate education in the United States. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to pack my bags and come to study in a place halfway across the globe. Maybe it was because my dad studied in the United States, or maybe it was because I always wanted to venture abroad. But I had never grasped the reality of studying abroad until I boarded that Jet Airways flight from Mumbai to Newark via Brussels.
I was born in Guwahati — "the City of Eastern Light" — in India. The term "Guwahati" consists of two words: "Guwa," meaning betel nut and "hat," meaning market. "Betel nut market." No wonder that a lot of people chew "paan" — a preparation with betel leaf, betel nut, lime and spices — all the time. Nestled in the green hills of northeastern India and sliced by the mighty river Brahmaputra, my state Assam is home to some of the most picturesque tea gardens in the world. It also boasts the famed one-horned rhinoceros, the "gamosa" — traditional red and white silk cloth — and the melodious Bihu music played by "dhol" (drum), "mohor singor pepa" (pipe made from a buffalo's horn), "tal" (cymbal), "gogona" (reed) and "toka" (bamboo clapper).
Ever since I left home for boarding school two years ago, I've thought of Guwahati as a place to relax, meet old friends and enjoy and contemplate life.
Peaceful and neverending, the Brahmaputra River fascinates and invigorates me. I've spent countless evenings there staring at the horizon and watching the glowing waters take on a magical hue, talking to myself and often venting my rage and despair. It has never failed to soothe my wretched nerves. Usually, groups of village men pass by on boats after selling their produce, reveling in the beauty of the evening. This is life in its simplest and most beautiful form.
I was one of the very few international students in my class who decided to break out of the mold, doing a week of community service at Anchor House in Trenton instead of the international students' pre-orientation program. And I remember almost every person in the group asking me, "Jahnabi, don't you feel homesick?" Strangely enough, I rarely feel homesick here. Maybe it's because of the work that keeps my mind occupied almost all the time. Or maybe it's because I went to boarding school for the last two years of high school. Or maybe I knew that I had to accept this "strange" place as my home for the next four years.
Since I come from India, which is a culturally rich but essentially homogenous society, it has been enlightening to come to Princeton's cosmopolitan environment and interact with students from all over the world. Today, I can have conversations about mouthwatering Filipino food with Paolo, learn about China from Qingzhen and meet students from countries as exotic as Turkey, Denmark and Ghana, learning something new all the time. These are opportunities I certainly wouldn't have had in India, and I'm glad that my four years here will educate me, not only scholastically but also culturally.
What really surprises me here is how prim and considerate people are. For instance, in India, nobody would ever ask my permission to sit on my bed or make an effort to be quiet while I'm asleep or studying. At boarding school, I often came home at night to find one of my best friends sleeping on my bed (I had the softest mattress). In my previous school, the library was practically the noisiest place. It was where friends went to hang out. Here, the absolute stillness almost freaks me out. There, I only made myself comfortable without considering how other people were affected.
Many people have gone out of their way to make me feel at home here. For instance, on a Monday night a few weeks back, I had physics lab during an Indian food study break at Forbes. Though I couldn't attend, my roommate Adelle actually saved food for me because she thought I would want to eat Indian food. I would never have expected something like that back home!
Ultimately, home for me is where the heart is. Home is a place where my dad is forever working at his table until late at night, where my mom scurries about trying to do a dozen things at once, where my sister is taking pictures of herself and where my brother is perpetually playing video games. It is where I wake up every morning to the chirping of the birds, my dogs licking my face and reassuring prayer chants from the "Nabagraha Mandir" ("naba" meaning nine, "graha" meaning planet and "mandir" meaning temple) nearby. It is a place where I can let go, shed my inhibitions and just be myself. In the end, I think that "home" is just another word for a comfort zone. I love Princeton, and I feel I have made wonderful friends here. But as exciting as it is, it's just not home. And I wouldn't want things any other way.
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