There was a cherry blossom tree right outside our bedroom window. I fell in love with it when I got married to Sam and moved in his house. I would spend my mornings just staring at the flowers on the tree with a cup of hot tea to give me company. And the mountains behind it, covered in all shades of green. I live in a city now, far away from any trees or mountains, well I am surrounded by mountains but they feel more like the green screen than the ones in Mussoorie. They get lost in the hustle and bustle of the everyday going. The sound of cars and buses early in the morning, makes me realize how robotic life has become. I always sit at the window and wonder if I will ever be able to go back to Mussoorie.
Sam loved his house. He never wanted to leave that place but it was me who forced him to. I thought I would just go crazy if I don’t start working. Mussoorie had nothing which interested me. I started painting and baking but other than that there was nothing I could do, to earn a living. I can never forget what my mom told me when I got married “Beta, I know your husband is a good person but never lose your identity. Never give up on earning money. It will free you and you will always feel confident about yourself” Mothers are always right, we realize it pretty late but when we do it just makes the bond between the two, so much more stronger.
I desperately wanted to move out to find a job, to start earning. And now that I am here, I am finding reasons to go back, to find the meaning of this life and whether it is worth it. This city has taken a lot out of me. It has taken my identity, it has taken my time, and mainly it took away Sam from me. It has given me so much but our sorrows outweigh our happiness. There are very few times when we truly remember our happy moments, for brief period we are happy but when something breaks us, it stays with us forever.
Sam always told me to do what makes me happy. Life was simple back home in Mussoorie. He would go to work and I would just relax in the backyard, giving water to the trees and feeding the farm animals. In between I would paint and try out new recipes. He would come back in the evening and we would have our evening cup of tea together, sitting in our veranda, and he would tell me his daily office gossip. We did the same when we moved to the city but slowly it stopped. I started working and we both came home tired and exhausted after the daily doings. Somedays, we just went straight to bed without speaking a word. That never happened at home in Mussoorie. We always had time for each other. Maybe, the city life is meant for those who are not looking for true happiness. I can easily go back but the empty bedroom and the veranda will make me miss Sam even more. I sometimes get so busy at work here that I forget Sam is no more with us. I wonder if it will be the same when I go back? I am willing to live with his memories but I am not willing to live with them alone.