Waking up in my own bed on February the 22nd felt strangely normal. I got up, brushed my teeth, showered, ate cereal, and got into my car. Muscle memory kicked in as I drove to the hockey turf, trained, returned home, and ate again. It was as if the past six weeks in India never happened. Everything looked normal, but it didn’t feel quite the same. I felt slightly muted and distant, as if I was processing my surroundings through a thin veil. As the days passed, this odd feeling of detachment faded, and now I find myself wondering if my time in Mumbai even happened, or if it was just a fever dream.
In India, I often told my friends and colleagues that they needed to visit New Zealand. Since returning, I can’t help but wonder what they would think if they were here. This exercise of trying to experience my own neighbourhood through the eyes of a curious traveller has been profound. Even the streets I drive every day feel foreign when considered from an outsider’s point of view. It truly is all about perspective, and normality is simply a construct of our own life experiences. Funnily enough, I have found my home more beautiful, exciting, and odd since returning, so perhaps this exercise is worthwhile for appreciating the beauty in what we already have.
The other intrinsic shift I have noticed is regarding my personal ambitions. The way I was brought up at home, and the message we receive at school and university is that to lead a successful life, one must be a high-achieving go-getter, an early riser that seizes the challenges of the day and conquers more trials and tribulations than everyone else. While I believe that work ethic and discipline are essential, I think we often overcomplicate our role and worth in this life.
I think success is a direct derivative of the difference you can make in someone else’s life. If the work you do has meaning to you, and you make someone else’s day better along the way, I think that is as fulfilling as anything needs to be. Amongst everything else, my time in India has taught me humility. When travelling to a city of over 20 million, with some of the world’s most impoverished people, you realise that you are significantly insignificant. That you are not special but just a grain of sand on a beach. It makes you realise that the only difference between you and the people in the slums of Mumbai is the cards you were dealt at birth. While I want to lead a life of discipline, accomplishment, and hard work, I can appreciate that if I enjoy life, spend it with people I love, and be useful, I have done something right.
Looking back, what I miss most isn’t the big trips, but the everyday moments in Mumbai. I miss the daily commute, playing cricket on the road, the hockey team I joined, and the energy of the streets. I miss the random conversations, the kindness and hospitality, the late-night dessert runs, and the feeling of accomplishment as I was able to navigate a city that was once unfamiliar. This experience has made me realise that travelling is fantastic, but staying in one place gives you a far richer experience. Mumbai quickly became a home away from home, and I know I will be back one day.
