this post was meant to be posted on the 25th of december, but can only be put up now.
for whatever reasons, this was written on monday (25th dec), was supposed to have been “published” on tuesday (26th dec), and is finally being put up nearly a week later. sometimes, its hard to differentiate between late and procrastinate. call me what you will.
i call me excited. happy. relieved.
i’m going home. again. after the longest gap that i’ve spent away from it. there was a chance this gap would have been even longer, but i’m glad that didn’t happen. i didn’t realize just how important, how epochal this trip was for me until i actually got into the plane and strapped on that seatbelt.
there are so many things that you end up missing about home. first, there is the chance to see the most important people in my life. its been a long, long time, and every passing photo only serves to remind me how much older people are getting while i am away. seeing these people was a fact of life that took some reminding. that a time could come when i would see them no more was never a question. and now i miss seeing them grow and age.
watching dad leave for office, warsha never get up, mom harried by the twenty different people that turn up each morning, the smiles on the faces of my grandparents, the smiley greetings from other family, the slap-your-back-you-bastard meeting from friends… no matter how many people i’ve met, how many people i’m close to… these are things you miss at some deep, deep level; a set of feelings you keep locked away, some things you don’t want to have to face everyday. some things that you will look forward to finding every time you get back home.
every trip comes with its share of people missing, people zooming up, people talking, people shrinking. the joy they have to see me only seems to increase though.
then, of course, there is bombay. india. the whole shebang. the jostling of crowds. the hanging on trains. the smell at the airport. the survival of a country against as many odds as it can face. no matter how far i stray from it, few cities evoke the sense of longing that i feel when bombay comes into sight between the clouds. the sight of the city beneath me during an early morning flight i took recently, bridge, chaos and all.. is something that remains etched. just walking down the street near my house, picking up that vada pav, aimless wandering the gullies, getting on a bus and watching the bombay of memory, of legend go past… watching the people hang onto a train that could not possibly hold another, and yet somehow people squeeze in, pull, push and shove until they are inside a train. everyday. these are sights and sounds that the double decker in london, the streets of new york, the “tube” or the metro can never replace. the chaotic weaving of traffic that zooms around people and vehicles without ever slamming into one another, using every millimeter of space available.. the sense of wonder that permeates bombay envelopes you, the sense of a city that hates to find its feet standing still.
i’m going to hate leaving it all behind eventually.
i currently hate knowing that that time is coming closer everyday.
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