The winds blew past me, whispering a tone of forlorn. Across the nations I walk, bereft of the reason to set things right, everything is bureaucratic and everyone is watching over me or so I feel. On my next flight back to India, I wait for my daughter to return from the ballerina classes she is attending, she might love our way back. After-all London, Manhattan and Jeju islands threw in a lot of perspective to what I have lost.
I miss my country, yes everybody told me to go abroad and settle down but what is the happiness with people so busy enough to never spare a smile, I spoke to the pigeons often, there are lot of them here, the sky is brighter and clearer, the clouds are cottony fluffy just as in the paintings. They are all beautiful yet I find my hometown more nearer to my heart. Stella disagrees with me albeit she hasn’t yet been to India, ever.
“Mom, Let’s not go back” Stella sounds hysterical from other end of the telephone.
“Stella,dear, It’s just for a month or two, it’s your vacation here and I really need to go back to the place I belong to” I try to reason out with her.
“Ok mom, you go then, I’ll stay back at my friend’s place.” Her voice has a tint of hidden excitement.
“And which is this friend that you are talking about?”
“Stop being so judgmental and Indian, Mom! and I don’t think so I would want you to know every single thing I do” Her tantrum isn’t new to me.
“Stella, that is not how you speak to your mother.” My voice quivers and I’m at the verge of crying.
And that was the sound of disconnected line, the tears in my eyes were the symbol of disconnected hearts.
In my country, there is respect that is given to all relationships, there is an emotion of being Grateful for the relationships that guide us and there are emotions of queer happiness at somebody’s success and an emotion of care, concern and pride to be amidst our people.
I’m not grateful for much today, I deliberately miss my flight, I get an awkward stare from my daughter when I reached her classes to pick her up, she was going to a party upstate, She swore never to speak to me again when I stopped her. We drive back home with acute silence and a heavy heart for not making it home. My mother would be upset.
But on the brighter side, our car broke down and I spent the next two hours looking for a ways to repair that disaster and it rained today, it’s wasn’t eh season yet I got to spend time with Stella, we licked ice-creams taking cover from our overcoats, had a long walk in the rain. I shared my teen years while she slowly opened up about her friends and her career choice of becoming a lecturer like me. I felt proud. I spoke to her about my hometown and how we chased squirrels and butterflies and the fact that the town is the same even after all these years.
She made an effort to speak genuinely with my mother and I genuinely accepted her friends whom I don’t approve of.
So, was today beautiful, ugly, heart-broken, crashed, understanding? Yes, they were all, today is feeling grateful for the mother-daughter bond that was barely intact.
Oh and I booked a ticket to India for three weeks and my daughter, not so excited but still willing to share my happiness. So I’m grateful for today, for the moments for the bad circumstances that sets everything right:)