When I was a kid, my parents and I lived in a one bedroom apartment in Bombay. We slept together on one bed and I remember we once woke up in the middle of the night because a mosquito had snuck into the room and was biting us. I remember my dad jumping on the bed and clapping his hands hard, trying to clap the mosquito to death. Not all heroes wear capes, eh?
Many years later we ended up in Canada with a house that was ten times bigger. My parents stayed in Canada but I returned to that one bedroom apartment because India feels like home. My parents are currently visiting me in Bombay but we aren’t sleeping on that same bed. We wouldn’t fit – I’m not that tiny anymore. It feels more like home now that my parents are here, but two more relatives are also visiting and staying with us… that means 5 people are currently living in a one bedroom apartment.
But it’s fun! The house feels electric, there’s a kind of energy that everyone brings. Sure, I need my space every so often but I like having a full house. Sometimes when I’m alone I feel dull and uninspired. But when there are people talking and joking and laughing, I find it easier to inspire myself to write about something.
As a writer, I’m always chasing a topic to write about, just like my dad chased that mosquito all those years ago.