Monday. Work emails continue. Meetings are scheduled. The day moves forward like any other.
Living abroad slowly teaches you that life does not pause for your memories. National days, festivals, and moments of collective pride often pass quietly. You acknowledge them internally, while the world around you carries on unchanged.
When I was younger, Republic Day meant early mornings, ironing uniforms, watching the parade on television, and feeling a sense of belonging without fully understanding it. It was a day that felt special simply because everyone around you felt it too.
Now, that feeling arrives differently.
You try to fit in. You focus on responsibilities, routines, and survival. Priorities shift—from celebration to stability, from emotion to practicality. You learn to balance gratitude for the life you are building with the longing for the life you once lived.
Sometimes, it’s a conversation with a friend or a post shared online that brings it all back. A quiet moment of nostalgia. A reminder of where you come from.
Living in another country reshapes you. It doesn’t erase your roots—it stretches them across borders. You carry your childhood memories quietly, celebrating in small, personal ways, while learning to belong somewhere new.
It may be just another Monday here.
But back home, it’s Republic Day—and that still lives within me.
