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As contradictory as it sounds, I find new beginnings very nostalgic. In a way it makes sense as every beginning in a way ends something old. And for someone who is not good friends with pragmatism…change is always bittersweet.

After 3 months of hectic lifestyle and exhaustion (defined as the inability to carry your own body from the couch to the bed)…Saif and I gave in to what most people would consider as common sense.

We decided to move.

We have been staying in Mountain View for more than 1.5 years now and to say that we loved it there will be an understatement. It’s a beautiful place. Undulating hills, lakes, trails, buzzling downtown, lot of places to eat out-this city has it all. But what sets Mountain View apart is its ability to charm you.

Cities are very much like people. Some people are effortlessly charming. They say charm can be cultivated but I tend to disagree. You can learn to be more pleasing. But charm… is an inner light-you have it or you don’t. This city had that something indefinable. …probably an air of romance…an air of possibilities.

Not only did we love the city…we were crazy about our sunny apartment too. Small enough to compete with any artist’s nook in Paris-it had the view of mountains from both the dining space and the bedroom.

My mom always used to tell me that the wise thing to do was live in a small house when you are newly-weds. This way you keep bumping into each other. After a few years of marriage, move into a big house so that you don’t get in each other’s way.

So for nearly a month we discussed hesitantly about moving…and one of us would exclaim “we can’t possibly leave Mountain view!” .But,we started looking at homes/apartments and were relieved somehow whenever we disliked an apartment in our list. We would go to eateries near our house…and announce wholeheartedly that one would probably starve in any heathen place which is not Mountain view.

But there were moments of temptation- A house with an Ocean view in Pacifica and an old house on the top of a hill.

Then we found the condo for rent…in Fremont. We had a mental block about Fremont-about being just another face in the ocean of Indian faces. Fear of overtly friendly neighbors and forced friendships because of common nationality. But the house itself was pretty with vaulted ceilings. Saying nice things about it…made me feel guilty. But then I knew-one can’t beat the advantage of having two separate bathrooms.That’s the sad reality of life-Practicality more often than not overrides romantic notions. Two days later…it was all final. We had a week to move.

We went to Saravana Bhavan; to think that I will not get to wait outside with a growling tummy for a plate of Rava Idli! The parathas and the greasy Punjabi food of Rajjot will be missed sorely too. They have no idea how much I’ll miss their scowling faces!

I cried on Castro street saying bye to the street lamps (and freaked out two American kids, by the way) and our familiar hang-outs. Cuesta Park… YMCA and yoga classes on Saturday afternoons.

I cried for the trees…the beautiful city library…I couldn’t go in. I stood outside and cried some more. I cried for this city I loved so much!

We moved the next day.