Where is your, Ginestlay?

In the movie, Lion, and the book, A Long Way Home, five year old, Saroo, fell asleep on a train and woke to find himself hundreds of miles from the only life he had known – far away from the love of his family and from the security of his small, impoverished village.

Saroo, desperately pleaded with strangers to help him find his way back, but at his young age, he didn’t properly know the name of his province – only what he phonetically remembered as, “Ginestlay”, the place he knew as home and a place where, on a map, did not exist.

Today, while standing at my window as I often do while watching wildlife come and go, I saw a young squirrel climb down from a tree and cautiously work its way across the grass and sidewalk, slowly, moving toward a bird-bath for a drink of water. It was apparent that the squirrel was using all of its senses, cautiously, and habitually honed in to its surroundings for any impending threat. When it came to the bird bath it effortlessly jumped up to the rim and took a fresh drink, surefooted, as if it had done it a hundred times before. A moment later the squirrel jumped down and moved slowly back across the sidewalk, across the grass, then back up the tree.

Now, I know that a squirrel and a little boy from India don’t have much in common, but while studying this squirrel it occurred to me that as young as it was, it had come to know this small part of its world as its home – its “Ginestlay”, a place where it was familiar and secure.

The story, A Long Way Home, moved me in a way that not many do. It occurred to me that, Ginestlay, whether spelled correctly or phonetically, whether it was a tangible place or whether it only existed in young Saroo’s mind, represented home. No matter the size of it, how formidable or not, it was the place where he was most familiar and comfortable – the place where he felt secure.

My Ginestlay, is a place where love is, a place where I call – home.

Where is your Ginestlay?