I was sitting at the airport, trying to breathe slowly so that I don’t let go of the tear that was sitting right at the edge of my eyes. To try harder I closed them. But I guess the things that you see with your eyes closed are the things that can hurt you the most as they bring back snapshots of the moments that touched you the most. I saw a blurred image of my father, driving me to the airport, smiling at me through the rear view mirror of the car and running a checklist of my id, tickets keys etc. Then I saw my sister, standing behind Ma while seeing me off, cursing my college for such a short vacation and hesitating to hug me in public. She suffers from I-am-too-classy-to-get-senti-in-public syndrome. But that makes her cuter. Argh! That made my fight against giving in to tears even tougher. Just then I saw Ma, hugging me. ‘It’s ok beta. It’s just about three months. Make the most out of it. We’ll be waiting for you’, she whispered into my ears, as I hugged her. I didn’t want to leave her. It doesn’t matter that you are taller than your mother. You can always fit into her arms, the warmest and the safest place in this whole world. Her fragrance beats even the best of the aroma therapies. Her words heal faster than any medicine. A trembling good-bye escaped my lips as I trudged my luggage towards the entrance of the airport. I didn’t want to turn back. I knew that if I would see her again, I won’t be able to keep myself from crying. I continuously felt hers protective eyes on my back as I walked towards the check-in counter. Failing to fight my urge, I turned to see those eyes behind the glass door when suddenly something rolled over my foot and my eyes opened with a shock.
‘Oh! I am terribly sorry for that’, apologized a passenger who had accidently ran his strolley bag over my foot.
‘It’s ok sir. I am fine’
Was I? Even after living away from home for six years now, it breaks my heart every time I have to leave. And by the way, that passenger was really cute. If appreciating a fellow human being from opposite gender keeps the mind off sad things then why miss a chance? Soon was joined by friends who were going back to Goa with me. Unlike the last vacation, no one came back with a new haircut or an added waistline. Suddenly all of us were smiling and wishing a happy new year to each other. The smile was more of a relief that even as miserable we have company, than being a genuine happy response on seeing a fellow classmate. We enjoyed grumbling about the boring lectures and annoying assignments that awaited us and that how short our break was. One can’t deny that grumbling in a group and laughing at our situation in the process is as entertaining as gossiping. It’s a pure testimony to the Hindi saying Dukh baatne se kam hota hai (Pain can be alleviated by sharing). The very ironic nature of the fact that we were leaving for Goa to study, while most of the other co-passengers were all set for the poor man’s Las Vegas trip, was very discomforting.
I stopped for a second before boarding my flight and took a deep breathe. I love the smell of winters in Delhi. It’s like a sweet raindrop dissolving in my mouth. I opened my palms to touch the last of the winter that I’ll get this year and stepped into the plane. After the customary sort-of-break-dance of the airhostesses on bilingual safety-guidelines-rap, the flight took off. And so did my last hopes of running back to home.
As the pilot prepared us for landing, I looked at the golden stars sitting on the dark earth beneath us. Slowly they morphed into street lights and headlights and with a jerk we touched down at the Dabolim Airport. Goa literally gave us a warm welcome with the humid air and fishy smell the moment we stepped out of the flight. The whole world changed within the couple of hours I was in that plane.
I wasn’t completely out of my Delhi hangover as one of my friends in the taxi was aiding it by continuously cribbing about coming back. So, I shifted my focus to the scene outside the car window. We drove past Goan houses, beautifully adorned with variety of lamps reminiscing last year’s Christmas and New Year’s Eve. They added so many soft yet vibrant colors to the night. I realized my fascination with the Mandovi again as it ran besides us. We cradled along the serpentine roads and finally reached the gate of our college, Goa Institute of Management. As we drove in, all the moments of the last term came rushing back to me. Secretly taking pictures of friends sleeping in the lecture, chalk fights, running like crazy to beat the RFID scanner every morning, birthday bashes, parties, festivals, night-outs, eleventh hour struggle with the group assignments, late night studies in the library, chatting over midnight tea, resource management in examination hall… All this brought back my smile and I was relieved that even though I am away from home, I am still among my friends… my people. GIM jaisa bhi hai… mera hai.
