Writer, Jaishree Misra has lived in London with her husband Ash and their young daughter, Rohini for the last 10 years - then India beckoned once more...
Ash, my husband, returned from his office one day, beaming from ear to ear for the first time in weeks.
"We're going home, darling," he announced, "we're going home to India!"
"Yes, yes," I replied, scarcely listening. "Of course, we're going back someday love."
"No, I mean in two months's time, Jaishree. As soon as I've worked out my period of notice."
He'd handed in his notice! Without even telling me. His explanation was that he had been telling me - for approximately ten years. For as long as we'd been married. We knew we'd never set out to make England our home. So why was I now ranting and raging noisily and tearfully around the living room, as though this was the first I'd ever heard of his intentions?
It took weeks of cajoling and three closely typed pages on his Visa card bill before I was entirely convinced, but, eventually, he won me over. I'd never really lost my fondness for India in the years I'd spent abroad and loved going back on holiday. We were going to set up our dream school for children with learning disabilities in India - something we'd long planned to do.
We made a short trip to Delhi to break the news. My oldest school friend, who lives in a beautiful old bungalow, attended to by an army of servants, said "Are you CRAZY? We're all trying somehow to get to the west and you idiots are coming back!"
That evening, Ash made our announcment to his mother over dinner. "Mum!" he said brightly, cheerfully, "Mum, Jaishree and I are coming home! To live with you!"
Mum's spoon clattered back into her bowl of daal. She looked at us open-mouthed. I nodded reassuringly, "Yes, it's true," I whispered, smiling, "We couldn't wait to tell you. We knew how happy you'd be ..."
Mum had by now regained her composure and found her voice. "HAPPY?!" she roared, "I'm just settling down after your father's death and now you two want to move in! I'm not getting any younger, you know! I don't have the time to look after you all over again!"
Oh crumbs!
Well, we're still going back. We leave next week. Ash-the-Optimist is still wearing his huge grin plastered across his face. I'm stocking up on M&S bras and Marmite...
