trichyI still remember the day clearly: 31st March, 2019. I had a knot in my stomach as I boarded the flight from Mumbai to Trichy. It was like a ‘second bidaai’ for me. I had gone through these same emotions as I walked across my society, saw my house for the last time, once in 2015, before I tied the knot. Here I was, 4 years later, feeling the same way again. A wave of sadness and anguish engulfed me. How many people get the opportunity to live in the same society as their parents? It was the best of both worlds for me – I was having my cake, and eating it too.

But, I had to move, after all, we are bound together for life, and I most definitely didn’t want to be in a long distance marriage. The flight to Trichy was in itself an adventure and warrants its own separate story. The flight from Chennai to Trichy was delayed by over 5 hours, and most people took a refund and left. We were just 4 people on the flight, it felt like my own private chartered flight that welcomed me to Trichy.

A gust of hot wind and heat, like I had never experienced before, welcomed me to the city that would be home for a few years. The initial month was a difficult one, I didn’t have a job in hand, and no friends or family. I would keep myself busy by setting up the house and applying for jobs. I did get a job by the end of the month, but I couldn’t join until June 1st because of another curveball.

Prashaant got sick and was in the hospital for a few days from May 6, a day I will never be able to forget. Because of that, I postponed my joining date, and became stronger (with an added gift of more grey hair on my head than my age can warrant).

Even after the worst storm, the sun shines again. June 1st spelt a new beginning – a new day in a new office. It was at this new office that I came in contact with that mythical creature called a ‘good boss’. And I don’t mean it sarcastically, I was appreciated, given full freedom, and allowed to grow. The words ‘good job’ from my boss was music to my ears. When I got my first byline on June 7th, my joy knew no bounds- 13 year old Sowmya’s dream had come true.

Come October, the edition that I worked on, City Express, shut down. Was I about to lose my job?- No. I was going to work for the main edition (Yaay).  Words of encouragement from my boss kept me going.

Working as a reporter and interacting with people, especially the less privileged has opened my eyes and changed my worldview. I have learnt the true meaning of empathy. One of the stories that really touched me was of a girl who won a trip to NASA, but was unable to afford it. How many of us have the talent to win such trips, and if we do, would money ever be a deterrent? Another story of how women are sent to live in a separate room in the village during their periods- makes your life problems seem miniscule.

While we sit and complain about missing our much planned vacations, there are people starving on the road, unable to go home, or sustain themselves without their daily wage.

Being in Tiruchy has also brought out my inner chef. Most days include calls to amma, ranging from ‘how to cook jeera rasam’, to if I’m in a fancy mood, how to cook milagu kozhambu. Being in a different city also gives you the pleasure of hosting your parents. While you happily let mom take over the kitchen, it also allows you to see your parents in a new light.

Being in a new city allows you to meet new characters, and learn something new. Even working in an office full of men is a new experience. But the kindness of your boss and colleagues makes it all worth it. I’ve had a chance to host my in laws, and several other relatives, who usually wouldn’t come to Mumbai.

Quite frankly, I hated the thought of moving to this new city, and leaving my beloved Mumbai behind. When Prashaant told me that he was being posted in Trichy, my world came crashing down (I know, it’s very dramatic, but that’s what I felt).

A year later, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. It has made me more confident and resilient. Of course, given a chance, I would run back to Mumbai in a heartbeat. After all, no phone call can equal seeing your parents daily, and no city can equal Mumbai’s hustle, and no food can match apna street food.

But, if Prashaant could move to Mumbai for me, it is only fair on my part to move when his career demands it.

For now, I’m soaking in the sights of Tamil Nadu and know that I’ll be excited to move to the next city that Prashaant will get transferred to, *conditions apply: metros only*