• Dreams,  Personal,  Thoughts,  travel

    Roots | Mumbai Diaries

    Roots. What a peculiar thing that can affect us so much when we least expect them to. I thought I had worked through a lot of my inner struggles with roots and identity by this age but I was so wrong. Why do I keep coming back to this country, why can’t I let it go? My father left India almost 50 years ago and I as an adult keep coming back as if something is pulling me here. Is there a stronger energy at play here that wants me coming back? What is the purpose of me feeling this way? 

    There are two days left of my trip and the emotions are already building up, that I am going back and leaving this behind. Once again, just like any other year, I am travelling back to Sweden. My home. Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful for my life in Sweden and that’s all I have ever known to be my home. But I have never felt that I fully belong there, there’s just that big chunk of both my heart and soul never able to belong to Sweden and it is always left behind in India. I come back to try to find my pieces every year to try to feel whole. I have also started to accept that it might be difficult for anything to ever fill that void of never belonging anywhere. The trick is to find ways to cope with this empty feeling. 

    When I land in Sweden and travel back to my apartment on the smooth empty highways, it’s always a bittersweet feeling. I feel emotional over the fact that I have left something behind but at the same time I am embracing what is so familiar to me. The life in Sweden. What gets to me each time, is that I notice that my clothes smell like India and the scent of Sweden is so different. The air is much lighter. There are no noises from traffic, no unnecessary honking going on. One would think that it’s something you’d never miss about India, but it’s exactly these things that make India come alive. It’s never sleeping and you learn to be mindful and unbothered by the scents, the noise, the crowd and everything that happens at once. Once you get mindful and one with it all, it creates this feeling of presence and bliss that we have all heard people mesmerised with India talk about. The hippies. 

    Even right now when I am typing this, I am sitting in my bedroom in our shared flat and the windows are closed. But you can hear everything from the streets four floors down in the middle of the city centre of Colaba, Mumbai. During a few wee hours in the night it goes quiet before the city wakes up to the organised chaos. I am not someone who easily get attached to places, I like to keep my memories of people and places normally and that is what I bring with me everywhere I go. But there has always been something with Mumbai that has pulled me in. I believe it’s the contrast between the rest of India that I’ve seen (which is not much compared to how much is left to see) and the India that exists in Mumbai. There’s a vibe in this town that is hard to match elsewhere. Perhaps I am a romantic Pisces that only likes to focus on these pink cloudy thoughts whenever I describe this town, but I am positive that I am not the only one who thinks this way. Obviously it’s not the jammed traffic, the high air pollution and crowded areas that make you love this city. It’s what language it speaks to you when you listen carefully with your ears and your heart. What is the soul of this place? Does it connect with you? Why?

  • Poetry,  Writing

    Poem: Butterfly Wings

    Breathing in deep
    Filling up the lungs
    Crispy winter air
    The ground is covered
    In white feathery snow
    Each breath
    Every step
    Moves me closer
    To running away
    From here.

    The endless wandering
    With every teardrop
    Every drop of blood
    Stop and wait
    Until the moment
    Pass you by
    Wait, until
    There is no tomorrow.

    Fly to the moon
    Only with my,
    Butterfly wings
    The space between
    You and me
    Ddissolves for every moment
    Every year
    We walk on this earth,

    Peace and love,

    Kimmi Sandhu

  • Poetry,  Thoughts,  Writing

    Unstructured Chaos

    Everyday is a chaotic day in my head.
    I have forgotten how to write the pain away.
    Some days are more floating than others.
    The memories float together in my mind,
    condense into the sky where they fall down like rain.
    Scattered. In pieces.
    I actually like this feeling.
    It’s a bittersweet and creative sensation.
    You just need to embrace it.
    Make the most of it. Be present in it.
    Days pass, years go by.
    The memories still remain…
    They never fade away.

    Peace and Love,