I seldom have urges of self-introspection, I have been running on all fours, trying to get further away from who I am, ironically I keep finding myself everywhere I flee. It’s only fair.
I had shied away from going back to my roots, the town of my ancestors, the soil that makes me holy as a cow and a second-class citizen all at once. But that was not it, the main reason I did not want to go back was that Banaras, the ancient city - was my father’s dream abode. He had planned for us to move here but before the summer ended, he passed away. My grandfather too found peace, solace, hope in this house where I now type these words, my fingers freezing.
I felt physical pain every time I thought of the city, I did not want to think of what could have been. I became so used to the pain that my father’s dream made me angry, it made me feel foolish and helpless. A blind man’s optimism is a powerful thing.
When I began navigating my own disability, things began to change. Bipolarity is draining, it doesn’t kill you but it does make you want to give up, on yourself, and on everything that brings joy to you. I did find, in the deepest of my despair that my pain was nowhere near a contender to the love I feel for a few people in my life. So love made me a fighter. Love also made me a reader, which has continued to save me, as Anne Lamott would say “bird-by-bird”.
So when Albert Camus returned to Tipasa and felt a myriad of emotions, I felt for him. He expressed something so human and so overlooked. It’s the painful realization that people, places - change, and for better or worse - we do too.
I first read Camus about eight years ago and my first one was Return to Tipasa. It made me cry, it moved me in a way I hadn’t felt before. So shoutout to my ex for recommending this essay and bringing so much happiness into my life. There’s happiness in being understood after all.
“In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there was within me an invincible summer.”
Thank you for existing Camus. I love you through your flaws and I hope you know that your art brings a lot of people comfort.
Is there a place you’re yearning to go back to?
Written with such a feel indeed! Benaras did impact on me too in the most strange and stoic fashion as the boat went across the ‘ assi ghats ‘ including Dashashwamedh, where the funeral pyres never cease to be lit! Since then, have been waiting to understand what this city has meant to many! Thank you Nidhi for this wonderful piece of writing.
Such a lovely newsletter, Nidhi! ❤️ I have visited Banaras once and it has made a substantial place in my heart. Also looking forward to reading Return to Tipasa now. Thank you!