How Japan changed my life’s Course
Obsessed, captivated and feverously desiring a nation called Japan, I arrived at Narita International Airport after taking off 11 hours from my home in India. Invited by my Japanese fiancé after a long careful consideration from the Japanese embassy, I was to meet him and his family diving into a country secluded far across Asia’s East. All my senses were ready to burst the smoke and mirror illustrations of the magnificent country that I had always imagined in my head, thanks to overwatching youtube, overreading Wikipedia and all other means of learning everything about Japan.
Extremely calm, happy and conspicuously polite airport authorities welcomed us towards step-by-step immigration process counters. We fumbled across huge boards, signals and cartoonish wall paintings that screamingly made us aware we were in Japan. Arriving when tourism was at a dead halt made us shockingly realise how we are the only two bodies to check in newly into the country. After getting our luggage we impatiently hunted for the exit but were kindly asked by an airport authority to open our luggage. The second I asked what was the issue, a small dog sniffing its way toward our luggage caught us off-guard. They asked us to open our big bag to check our items and as I explained to them the so-called significant importance of our Indian spices, snacks and lentils, they regretfully took away a small bottle of red rice. We were barred to bring red rice into the country because Indian rice contains pesticides which are not fit under their quality check. With an unsuccessful attempt to plead my way in to kindly validate my Indian red rice, the cute mommy-like lady apologised sincerely. With no pinch of hesitation, I took the liberty to explain the purpose of red rice showing her pictures of our dessert called kheer made from rice, milk and sugar, to which she interestingly responded by saying it looked “Oishi” (tasty).
I reunited with my fiancé who was waiting patiently outside and worried about why it took us longer than expected because of our strict sad rice exchange. As he welcomed me and my father to his country, I swept through small crowds of Japanese faces who appeared unbothered by our comparatively loud, fast and exciting greetings. People passing through our path as we walked to the adjacent train station looked so sophisticated dressed and classy, right from refilling our railway cards, abling through escalators, taking the elevators, and walking through vending machine-filled railway platforms which were eerily quiet and spotlessly clean.
The Skyliner which had already arrived before time had cleaners inside the train who hurriedly swabbed all corners of each compartment which alarmed me with the Japanese’s resilience towards the no dust no dirt policy. After boarding the train, there was a wide open luggage stand towards the entrance where we could keep our heavy luggage secured inside the open rails enabling passengers to have comfortable and hassle-free seats.
Typhoon Nanmadol was speedily approaching Tokyo and unfortunately coincided with the start of our trip. Japan sitting at the ring of fire was no stranger to infamous natural calamities but was famed to deal with disasters with their progressive technology, efficiency and adapting to its aftereffects with unshaken normality. We decided to lay low for at least two days, as I tucked away my To-Do list in Tokyo that I had forever longed to execute.
There was a strange level of ease and comfort that did not make me languish about my life back in India. Still, too soon to think about things that can only be known in the future, we got down from the Skyliner reaching Sugamo, a station that connects us to another line towards our destination. Tokyo has 9 train lines that cover about 179 stations and as we stepped on to our very first line it was bewildering to see so many fancy coffee shops, gorgeous flower stores, Japanese sweets and snack shops with a vast variety of stunning options that were eloquently placed to snatch customers passing by.
The most appealing element in each item kept on display was the creative packaging that donned a beauty mask to each and every product. From the colourful and soft bathing towels that is an essential bath item for the Japanese, endearing greeting cards, autumn harvest cookies and cakes kept beside bright package tins and overly used plastic-wrapped sweets out for display- it is an array of gracefully placed cute items that are too charming to be displaced from their shelves!
I held on to my enticement to shop and after postponing it to a better time, passed through the attractive shops to head towards our night stay.
Being born and brought up in Mumbai, my mind and body closely resounded to loud, crowded, and lively surroundings that keep me engaged for as long as I can remember. My dual experiences of sinking in and naturally comparing the two major cities of Tokyo and Mumbai astonished me the minute we reached Itabashi, where my fiancé resided which is quite remote as well as close to central Tokyo. Reaching late evening, the air was faint, the streets dimly lighted with just a few faces wandering the streets of most people going back home returning from work or running errands.
“Is this really Tokyo?” I asked him to which he laughed and reminded me how he was happy to find this place as he preferred a quiet and less crowded neighbourhood for a home.
Walking the narrow streets with different variety of shops, hotels, convenience stores, gardens, Japanese buildings, spacious parking lots, and unique-looking bicycles- made me pinch myself to register how all those Pinterest images of Japanese street photographs are beyond real and rustic.
There are automated buildings with no watchmen or people scurrying outside their windows and near the premises like back in Mumbai. We entered a house impeccably light furnished with smaller built rooms and minimalist furniture. It was designed to flaunt its tidy and luxurious modern Japanese contemporary architecture that romanticises perfection in all corners.
I could hear my own breathing inside the airconditioned room that was amply ventilated but mostly kept shut to preserve the room inside dust-free. In the absence of any ceiling fan noises, busy street hubbub, or clamouring vehicles outside, preparing for bed seemed like a sacred ritual to abstain from doing any noisy activities that shall disrupt the calm yet restless mind. As I breathed in the new change of the land, its admirable cleaner air, facile travelling routine, and illuminating lights of the buildings, streets, shops, and every inanimate object, it made me completely surrender to a place that I might one day call my second home.
