The cold air rubs up against my neck. I look out and see the first snow. The cold, white crystals fall onto the brown hard Earth and in that moment, all I wish for is to be with my family. I get transported back to Bangalore. My sister and I struggle to take the Christmas tree from the attic. We cough violently as we brush off the thick layer of dust and cobwebs that have been festering on it for the past year. We search for the little tinsels and lights to cover up the naked tree. We play old Hindi songs while decorating the tree, as our mom comes in every five minutes to supervise. Whilst we decorate, my dad and my dog engage in a tug of war, with neither willing to lose. Alas, at the end my dog emerged victorious. The task of decorating the tree is complete, and exhausted we collapse on the dining table. My dad says “Samosa mangwau?”, which translates to “Shall I order samosas”?
We all gleam and my mom rushes to the kitchen to make chai. The air fills with the aroma of elaichi and cardamom as they are crushed into the warm tea. The chai and samosas are placed on the table and we devour them like no tomorrow! We converse and without fail, my parents mention how my sister and I were such hooligans when we were kids. We laugh at our antics.
I am transported back to my house in Liverpool. I look around and realise even though I am not with my family during the holidays, I am surrounded by loved ones. One of my best friends, who has been with me since the beginning of my Masters journey; she who passionately shares my love for books; who frequently bought me food as I was holed up in my room completing assignments. My best friend’s boyfriend, who is like an older brother to me; He listens to my morbid torture stories and chimes in; He is able to keep a clear head when none of us can. Finally, my boyfriend, who always ends a call with ‘I love you’; who showers me with flowers and chocolates on my worst days; who has made Liverpool home away from home and who has been one of my biggest supporters.
I look at them and realise how grateful I am. We play Uno, and we sip on mugs of piping hot chocolate topped with sweet, decadent whipped cream and marshmallows. I am aware that it is cliche to say they are not the family I was born with, but rather the family I chose.
But what can I say? I couldn't have asked for a better family in Liverpool!
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