Not So Alone After All

Finding a sense of belonging in the middle of the countryside.

I love my neighbours. I really do.

It is a strange thing, isn’t it? We spend so much of our lives trying to find the perfect house, but we rarely have a say in who lives six feet away from us. It is a total lottery.

I have had all types of neighbours before. I’ve lived next to the “I don’t care about you” ones, the gossipy ones, and the ones who seem to treat their living room like a night club. I’ve had the invisible ones, the intrusive ones, and the ones who are perhaps just a bit too social for a Tuesday morning.

But here, in our little Cotswold village, the balance is just right.

They are perfect. Not too close, but certainly not strangers. There is a quiet understanding between us. They’ll lend a hand when you’re struggling with a heavy box, and they’ll stop for a proper chat if they see you aren’t in a rush. Most importantly, I’d like to say that we truly care for one another.

My favourite moments, however, happen when Mahesh is cooking.

When he gets into the kitchen, the village feels a little smaller in the best possible way. We gather together, we eat food that is frankly better than most restaurants, and we talk. We talk about nothing and everything - random observations, local news, and the kind of lighthearted nonsense that only happens when you feel truly comfortable.

I simply love it.

It is a reminder that even when you are tucked away in the middle of the countryside, you aren’t actually alone. You are part of a rhythm. Today was one of those days, and as I walked back to my own front door, I realised how lucky I am to have found this particular corner of the world.