Tokyo

When we first set off for Tokyo, in December 2002, my daughter Tanvi was very little. I mean just over two years old. her vocabulary was limited to a few words like, "mama", "dada", "come", "hunggy", etc. She used to see her world sitting in the stroller from her height, her perspective. Sometimes she would request, "Mummy carry!" So I or my husband would carry her and show her our world from our height. Could we say our perspective? Will we ever be able to show her our world form our perspective? If we could, will she be able to see it? Or comprehend it? It feels as though the world we lived in is fast becoming history... as though it is wet sand on sea shore and is just waiting for a wave to come and erase it, for ever.

My son Heman was just over 5 years old. For him the world was not a very secure place if mummy or daddy were not around. He would hold on tight to his sister's stroller so that he could be dragged with us even if he was looking at the other things. He has always been very inquisitive and a fan of trains and planes like million other boys his age. I used to feel that I have two normal children and have a normal family. I am one of the luckiest of the lot.

Three months later when we went back to India, Bombay, my daughter was able to speak in fully constructed sentences. As we set foot on the tarmac, I welcomed ourselves and said, "Welcome to homeland, welcome to our own Bombay!!" out of the sheer exhilaration of seeing the city lights and feeling the familier humidity on the skin. Little Tanvi just looked and smiled her tired but lovely smile at me from her stroller. She could not see or understand much of the city when we were getting home as she was tired. Next day she woke early - early Bombay morning, without any jet lag. She stood up on her bed and started looking around the closed air conditioned room. Seeing her awake and standing on her bed, I was expecting questions like, "Momma, where are we?" Or, "Are we in Bombay?" But her questions were, "Momma, get up, what is that smell? What is that noise?" Hearing this question in Bombay while being half asleep and a bit jet legged, I realised that my transformation to Momma from Mummy was complete in three months time.

Not only that but also the early morning city traffic noises and the smell of the city was so noticeable to the two year old. So her transformation to an NRI child was complete too. It so happened that we had to go to Tokyo again due to my husband's posting nine months later. The children were a little older. My daughter had now started carrying on conversations. She told many stories from her stay to her grand parents and who so ever would listen. She was a little older. As we touched down at Narita airport, she welcomed us to the country saying, "Welcome to our motherland. We have come back to Tokyo!"