I came to live in Bristol over twelve years ago. I visit my home town, Chennai, formerly Madras, every year and believe I have two places I can call home!
I recorded some famous Indian tunes played on the harmonica by Nandu, my husband. I used snippets from them to match the different moods of the story. I'm always surprised at how much at home I feel in Bristol coming from 5000 miles away. The past years have been a voyage of personal discovery- of many truths- trivial and serious!
This story was made on a four and a half day training workshop for artists and practitioners aiming to join Bristol Stories Network in order to help facilitate future programme of workshops, and also benefit from other training opportunities.
The course was led by Ruth Jacobs and Liz Milner, and took place at Watershed during February and March 2006. The project was supported by Bristol’s Museums, Galleries & Archives.
[An accordian plays tunes between paragraphs]
Where do I really come from?
I’ve had that question asked so many times.
Was it fate that brought me to Bristol? Why is it home, as I’ve never known before?
Was I a Bristol princess in a previous incarnation? Or maybe I was a pirate who sailed the high seas?
Where do I really belong?
What is belonging?
Bristol’s my own little paradise - a bed of grass covered in pink petals, where dreams - past and present merge, some nostalgic, others hopeful.
I walk across the Downs and welcome the cold air, remembering the warm breeze blown in from a tropical sea.
I searched in vain for The Admiral Benbow, and learnt that cricket’s not a consuming passion.
I go back to find vegetables cut and enclosed in cling film, while mine arrive at my doorstep wrapped in fresh mud. I sit astride - native to both countries in this city which remains - my reality - my escape.
All media not otherwise credited created by the story author, or permission obtained, used under copyright licence.