I could not think of any particular incident except the moment I remembered that I had not hugged my youngest daughter the night before leaving for this place. She and I had spent a few months travelling through India together, and as I headed for Landour, she would fly to Kerala. Our travel arrangements were such that I left absurdly early and she left late in the evening; somehow we had forgotten to say goodbye to each other.

To me, that farewell ritual was important. A mother should always be there to remind her children that she loves them! After returning to my room, I sent her a message: ‘Hey, I forgot to say goodbye, and I felt a bit bad about it.’ She responded that it was no big deal for her. After all, we had seen each other day and night for months in a row; what more did I want?

Little girls grow up fast

Was her response a nonchalant dismissal of all my loving efforts? Or did this “no big deal” stem from the solid foundation of trust and love I had built with her over the years? For years, I was always available. Perhaps seeking confirmation of the truth of the matter, I texted my other two daughters, to whom I hadn’t spoken for a while, but they didn’t have time to talk either—one had just left for work; the other one had friends over.

And so I suddenly realised that little girls indeed grow up and take on a life of their own, which means that I am free to enjoy life and myself. This journey taught me that it’s okay to be alone, and it’s okay to take time for myself. Most importantly, perhaps, I accepted the fact that I don’t have to prove myself to others.

There is a well-known Dutch saying: “Het leven is een feest, je moet alleen zelf de slingers ophangen” — life is a party, but you have to hang the decorations yourself. Whether it is at home in Amsterdam or here in this spare room in Landour, whether I am among friends, family, or with my partner, or completely alone, I will try my best to always hang up the most beautiful decorations I can wherever I go.