7 things Expats fear regards home..

Expats are immigrants, hearts and passports belonging to one country, sweat and time belonging to another. I am one such sad mule. White folks have fewer expats that us brown folks of the desi world. Like any good expat, I am bound to my mother nation by blood and almost annually plan a trip home.

Each trip is an enriching experience, being an expat you have that aura around you that says better water, food and hygiene (usually). It gets you that special treatment reserved for special guests, rich guests, rare guests and movie stars. But being an expat means that there is this whole darker side to it too, one that involves extensively detailed nightmares and legitimate worries regards the goings on back home. This is my list of seven such things. 

  1. Assetorobophobia. On principle I do not own property anywhere, but those who do have this constant worry. You see, we think that as long as we and our property are on the same timezone nobody would dare encroach upon it. Soon as our departing flight taxi’s onto the runway the potential land grabbers break open the box of costly champagne in celebrations of being able to take over our few yards of grazing land.
  2. Kalyanophobia. Often misunderstood to be the fear of weddings, this one is actually the fear of weddings one will miss. It is not an element of fear for me. More of a disappointment. I hate missing weddings. It is not the celebration I miss (there is usually little to none) but the whole big step in life that I have gripes about missing. Till date I have missed two weddings. These are the weddings of people I grew up with, officially the first wedding in my age group. If you are one for grand weddings (those that could single-handedly end the energy crisis/world poverty) then you are sure to agree with me on this one.
  3. Newarrivalophobia. Births I will miss. I am not a wet nurse, nor do I intend to deliver babies for others. I miss welcoming additions to the family. Usually I am reduced to asking the happy mother/father/grandfather/grandmother/proud uncle/proud aunt what the baby looks like (if the baby is good looking he/she resembles the father’s side or the mother’s side depending upon who I am talking to). I make up for this on my subsequent trip though. On record there are still at least five nephews and nieces that I haven’t officially met.
  4. Politifamiliphobia. Family dramas I will miss. Okay I wont miss these but to those politically active within their families this is a huge loss. But hey, the technology has brought the politics at your fingertips so enjoy! On a related note here however, I do fear the new batch of drama I will face on my next trip, it is a guaranteed fact of the desi life that each quarter sees some new conflict of interest that escalates into a Cold War of sorts. I am ready to bet on it. If on your next visit you don’t find a fresh potboiler I will stop buying Brut perfume!
  5. Nomoreophobia. Elders I meet now may not be around the time I visit again. This is a very real fear for me. I happen to have many elders in my family. One has even seen four generations now, this particular person looked after my mother and aunts, their children (us), and our children (my nephews and nieces). Masha Allah she is still healthy enough for her age with the occasional joint pains.
  6. Oldparentophobia. Who will look after my parents? People like me who have no siblings back home have this fear gnawing at them. Not that we will do anything about it like calling our parents over to stay with us or moving back to stay with them. We just like this fear thriving and making itself known in every conceivable nightmare. Each small item of news from back home is amplified into a Godzilla like rampage in our minds due to this. So dear parents, if you get frantic calls late at night from us inquiring about that hurricane that hit that village a million miles from home, do understand.
  7. Missing the Indian summer. Okay so I do not have fancy a Latin name for this one, it is an Indian thing. I have so far missed the last four summers. The Indian summer deserves a whole page to it so I will not go on a tirade about it just yet. If you are suitably brown you will know what I am talking about.

The next time you see an expat looking all stressed even after a month-long vacation sit them down and offer them an appropriately soothing glass/bottle/shot of beverage. They are probably under the influence of the big sevens above!

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