As the tune began, I instinctively began lip-syncing – “Shaame malang si, raatein surang si…”. Ilahifrom the Bollywood movie Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani is a song that celebrates the unfettered free-spirit and living in the moment. In a movie that charted the journey of a young commitment-phobic nomad who circles back to love and friendship, Ilahi became the anthem for the young Indian traveler. 

Seated in a parlor in Meharchand Market in Delhi at 10:30 am on a Saturday morning as the song played on TV, all I could see was Paris in the backdrop. I was instantly transposed to the streets of Paris – my home for four years. As the camera raced through picturesque Paris, sitting in the parlor chair, I could smell the onset of winters, feel the nip in the air, see the autumn colors, hear the soft chatter of French and nearly taste the kick of bitter coffee seated in a street café. For it was a different time. And a different me. The me in Paris, would never be out at 10:30 am on a Saturday to go to a parlor. Now, it’s a standard time in the morning to run errands, including self-care, for it’s the time my daughter naps. 

For once my focus was not the heartthrob Ranbir Kapoor, but the backdrop of streets, shops and skies. The montage on screen was of the picture-postcard city with the magnificent Eiffel Tower, the grand Arc de Triomphe, the evergreen Louvre Museum, the bustling bylanes of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, the imposing Sacré-Cœur in Monmartre, the majestic Seine and even the lesser-known Père Lachaise Cemetery. I found myself craving for the city as I watched the song, but the images of Paris that galloped towards me were very different. My house in the 16^th arrondisement. My neighborhood with the Jardin du Ranelagh and Bois de Boulogne. My local boulangerie. My favorite Thai restaurant. My evening walks in Passy. The weekend farmer’s market of Auteuil. And the weekly pilgrimage to Gare du Nord to buy Indian groceries. It all came rushing back. Not the Eiffel, the Seine nor the Louvre. So, while the song celebrated the idea of travel, it brought back the memories of my home.

I had moved to Paris shortly after joining work. A dream job, one I had dreamt of for most of my adult life, had finally come true. There I was in my 20s working and living foot-loose and fancy-free in one of the most beautiful cities of the world. I made friends from around the globe, rediscovered some old networks. During that time, I got married and my husband joined me in the city of romance. A friend from school, he became my spouse in the years that followed. The journey from boyfriend to husband was one of discovery of not just him but myself as well. We uncovered our shared passion, realized new ambitions and created our own lens to see the world. In the course of those four years, we moved houses, adopted a pet and found the rhythm of our lives. In both the professional and personal journey, Paris was the perfect companion – offering whatever one asked and hoped for. Exposure, experience, empathy and ecstasy. Paris had it all. 

As luck would have, yet another soundtrack Ude Dil Befikre from the Bollywood movie Befikre followed soon after. Again, a song celebrating the carefree and fearless spirit of youth. The energy of the song was infectious. But a sense of pesky anguish churned within me as I saw the protagonists prance around my city. My life in Paris too was carefree and free-spirited. Nothing like what the song portrayed, but in its own way I was the master of life. From sleeping in late to lazy weekend mornings, from picnics in Buttes Chaumont to walks by the Seine, and from backpack trips to shopping sprees, we did what we wanted, when we wanted. And so, after long, in the parlor thanks to two Bollywood songs, I was reminded of my old-self albeit through the mosaic of Parisian images. 

Both the songs on the TV had one thing in common – the idea of self and living life on your own terms. Childbirth changes that. Our daughter was born in March this year. And honestly, I now remember very little of my life before her birth. A woman is born twice they say. And I couldn’t agree more. My world revolves around her. Now, every outing I feel like Cinderella, with the clock ticking for me to get back to her. The past seven months have been beautiful, magical and yes, at times trying. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But yes, I have often wondered where that leaves me as a person. And what constitutes ‘me’? Though not physically anymore, but my daughter is very much a part of ‘me’ mentally. So, does the idea of self evolve? Will one ever think singularly? In the end of the movie Yeh Jawaani Hai Diwani, Ranbir Kapoor tells Deepika Padukone that “Main wahi sapne dekh raha hoon, magar do ticket pe” (“I am still have the same dreams, just now for the two of us”). It’s an emotion that rings true as much for a partner, if not more, for a child. Now with Meher, I know both my husband and I can’t wait to see world with her. 

I know I have my dreams, aspirations and ambitions, but my daughter comes before everything else. It’s not a simple change in the pecking order. I guess, motherhood expands your consciousness – one that liberating, exhilarating, and unparalleled to any other life experience. No wonder I can’t wait to take Meher to my Paris and make it ours…