Dancing at Rann Utsav: My First Garba
My feet stumbled at first. The steps came too fast, the claps didn’t always land right, and I kept checking if I…
I always thought home was a place.
An address. A room. A bed you sleep in.
But Gujarat showed me something different.
Here, home wasn’t about where I stayed. It was about who I was surrounded by.
Family members who share my eyes, my laugh, and yes — my stubborn streak too. People who looked at me and didn’t need introductions. They already knew me, even before I finished my sentence.
Home was hearing my name called from another room.
It was being teased for small habits everyone somehow remembered.
It was sitting quietly while stories from before I was born floated around me — and realizing those stories were also mine.
I didn’t have to explain myself here.
I didn’t have to fit in.
In Gujarat, I belonged without trying.
I learned that roots aren’t something you see.
You feel them.
They show up in familiar smiles, shared traditions, and the comfort of being known. And once you feel that, you stop asking what home means.
Because you’re already in it.
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Why This Trip Changed Something in Me
I’ve visited India many times. But Gujarat did something different to me. Maybe it was the way strangers smiled so easily, like…