A day with myself....

Five years, its been five fucking years when I left this city. The city that taught me to survive, to fly, and in these five years I had experienced every emotion, every crazy thing one can imagine. Late night drivings, random talks with strangers, dancing on roads, and even getting drunk. I had made up my mind to live my life to the fullest, on my conditions, and was in love with my city forever. But then my parents married me and this was the end of my story, my freedom, my ambitions. From a liberal, independent, happy go lucky girl, I became a bahu (a trophy) owned by a.prominent family. Every time I longed to enjoy something, or talked funny, I was reprimanded of the high status and respect of my in-laws. I thought I would suffocate to death amidst these traditions that were more of ordeals on how should I walk, dress and what should I eat. How should I address my my husband and all the fasts n puja I had to perform.
The only time I use to feel alive was when I came to visit my parents. I laughed without thinking how loud I was, talked without mincing words, and ate what I liked, slept till late in the morning, and for once, I wasn't worried about what to cook for lunch or dinner.

One morning I decided to take a stroll in the city. I wanted to see what has changed over these years. New malls, parks, metro station, and what not. The mere feeling of freedom... Roaming in the city on your own, doing what you like, gave me thrill. But this time, this feeling of being at home wasn't there anymore. Strange people, new places, a few unknown roads, even the famous paav bhaaji that I use to eat with friends, tasted different. The city where I found peace in chaos, love in its vibrant hues of daily life, and happiness in chit chats with friends, was now just another new city to explore. I still don't know what I missed the most, the city or myself.