In each installment of Aaira’s Adventures, Aaira Goswami ’27 captures the fleeting emotions and quiet reflections of life at Stanford, exploring moments of growth and discovery. From joyous experiences as an international student to unraveling the unexpected, join her journey of learning more about life here, mostly in afterthoughts.
As I rummaged through my dorm’s kitchen, I found a packet of English Breakfast Tea. I turned the packet around to find a picture where a lady, supposedly the owner of the company, was wearing a gamusa while picking tea leaves. I instantly recognized home. A gamusa is a traditional Assamese handwoven white rectangular cotton cloth with a red border that signifies love and respect. Back home, we often adorn our loved ones with these gamusas.
It had been a while since I had seen anything even remotely close to Assam. With a big smile, I took a picture of the packet and sent it to my parents. There are rarely moments at Stanford when I am reminded of home, and yet everywhere I go, I constantly find myself pondering about home.
Recently, on my way to class, I noticed the flower patterns on the arches of Main Quad looked eerily similar to jhaapis that we wear in Assam. Protruding flower petals from a red dot surrounded by a red circle on top of the spandrels in Main Quad somehow managed to look like the hats worn and adorned by my people back home. For a moment, overwhelmed by how much I missed the peace and quiet of Assam, I started playing Tumi Suwa Jetia by Zubeen Garg. A light drizzle began, and the poetic lines of the song consumed me.
Tumi suwa jetiya dusoku tuli… mur akaax bhangi name bijuli.
When you tilt your head to look at me with your eyes, my sky shatters and lightning breaks down.
These lines instantly transport me to the monsoon rain in Assam. I am at the dining table with my aunt, her son and my mom, eating momos with soup and listening to the heavy rainfall. Loud familial laughter engulfs the room, and I can almost taste the delicious chicken curry my aunt makes. I am transported back — I check my phone and realize I am running late for class.
Somehow, the distance makes the culture louder in my head, and even more so in my heart.
In these afterthoughts, I wonder — what reminds you of home when you least expect it?