Tale Of Two Cities

Written on the 1st of August 2010, For 29th July 2010

I had been waiting for the day, when I would finish with my assessment, and fly back home, to my parents, my brother, my friends. I just wanted an end to all the sleepless nights, the tireless working hours, and the ton of work that I had. I really was waiting to bid goodbye to it all, and just be. Without anything to do, without any routine to follow, without any goals to be met.

And there I was all packed up, and ready to go.

I was delighted, overwhelmed with tears when I flung my arms around my mother. It felt so soothing, so comforting. I didn't want to move from there. I was so excited to be back to India, to be back to the place I call home. Time passed, day after day, and I was getting used to Mom's cooking, Mom's constant nagging to clean my room, sleeping in her lap; fighting with my Dad for fun, spending quality time with him, renting out movies; Brother's tantrums and then cajoling him, teaching him science and taking full advantage of chiding him; the pampering of the maids, always there at your beck and call for anything and everything; the driver to take me around wherever I needed/wanted to go; and my friends who begged I attended every party, who organized lunches for me, and all their warm hugs and letters.

I was actually doing nothing; just flicking the channels of the Television (which, I considered to be a great privilege). I couldn't motivate myself to paint, or draw, or exercise, or even read. Just somewhere between all the outings, and the rainy afternoons, and the lazy days with family, the holiday was ending.

In all this, I realized one thing. I only really understood what it meant to have all of this after I went away to college. No, I didn't take any of this for granted, but my respect and value of this just doubled and tripled. In all the fun I was having, I hadn't noticed how time had run it's race. It was time for me to go back.

For nearly three months, I was waking up at almost noon, where as, when I am at college, that's the time I sleep after having finished all my assignments. For nearly three months, I had been fed and made fat, with all food cooked with sugar, spice, love and everything nice. I gorged on my Mom's desserts. When at college, all I get is very limited vegetarian options, self-cooked food made on trial-and-error basis. For three months, my friends and I had been conversing on local rates, meeting almost everyday. But when I'm away, we resort to Facebook and MSN for conversations, and Skype, to have a glimpse of each other. For nearly three months, I was used to people around me. I was used to being dependent on them. But at College, I am always independent, knowing and setting my limits, willing to take on any thing that comes my way. I was unhappy to think about leaving India. I thought that the summer ended too soon. I thought that the dark, vicious clouds of the rain arrived too soon.

Yet, I was happy. Somewhere deep down there, I couldn't fool myself. I couldn't fool myself about the way I felt. I knew, I was looking forward to the new year, and the new friends I'd get to make, and all the explorations and experiences lined up for me. And at the same time, I couldn't smile in the pictures we took on my last day, and I couldn't watch my family bid me a safe journey back with all their best wishes. I ignored them calling out to me at the airport, and walked into its Air Conditioned confines with my trolley full of luggage.

And there I was all packed up, and ready to go.

For me, every four months shall see the change. Change in lifestyles, change in routine, change in activities. I shall always be stuck in the Tale Of Two Cities. I shall always be bound by the love of and for the two cities.

Image Courtesy: Drishti Kulshreshtha, Radhika Gupta

The Ride Back Home

Waiting in the sea of immobile cars, while sitting in the driver’s seat, is not really the best thing to do. I was getting late. I needed to be home. But, the traffic is unbeatable. It’s frustrating. And at that moment, I wished to fly back home.

I’d turned off the engine (Yes, I like to conserve) and repeatedly cursed the traffic. The only sounds I could hear were the sound of my breathing; the soft, spitting rain on my windshield; whish-washing of the wipers that cleared out the water from the transparent screen in front of me; and the constant honking of the vehicles outside the confines of my car.

Suddenly, amidst this madness, I am lost. Completely blank in the head. Empty. Just when I thought that my brain wasn’t functioning anymore, I was proved wrong by my own voice questioning me “What has happened to you?” Did I have an answer? No. Of course I didn’t. I was completely blank. There was no repeated thought that capered about the grey matters of my brain. In fact, there was no thought at all. I was listening intently to the sounds around me and how they all united in an annoyingly calm and quiet cadence. Being sucked out of all thought for these twenty minutes gave me a kind of unexplainable peace.

I suddenly shook awkwardly, as though an unconscious patient rose to consciousness. I realized my comeback when the vehicles had started noisily honking behind me. And when I looked up, I saw that I had given off about ten meters of driving space ahead of me.

Startled, as well as slightly amused with the entire situation, I accelerated the car and waded home through the flooded streets.

All in all, I had been rid of all the weariness, and I was looking forward to a relaxing evening, listening to the Elton John’s tunes whilst lying down on my hammock in the balcony.