Tuesday, 28 February 2012

The first flight

My parents are so not the traveling kind. They love their familiar surroundings and people. Holidays as a child were spent at grandparents places or learning new something at school. Thanks to this approach, I engaged in a lot of sports and art as a kid! On the flip side, I never got to take a flight.

It was always a longing feeling, I remember. Go back to school in July and friends came back with exquisite pink disneyland bags, flashy notebooks and chunky digital watches bought in Amreeka - where they went for a holiday that summer. I would just have my Trichy and Tennis stories to share. No pink bags. No flashy notebooks. No chunky digital watches. Well, not from Amreeka at least.

Eventually it did happen. The flight ride that is. I took my first one to Singapore for university. The excitement was shadowed by all the grief of leaving home. God, had I teared buckets that day. So much so that dad was ready to cancel the ordeal. I could not be blamed. I was leaving my life behind. I was leaving everything that I knew behind. I was leaving a lot of love behind.

The excitement, yes. It was around. I paused the river of agony running down my cheeks for the ritual of first take-off. It was dad and me. Sitting in the last row of the flight. They were emergency seats (lots of leg room, yay!). I clenched my tummy as a sinking feeling set in. Ears were blocked. Ever since that plane crash that happened after landing on the runway, I acquired a habit. To pray before the take-off and landing. Prayers were said. The flight took off. I let the river resume its flow.

The first flight did happen.

Be careful what you wish, cause it just might come true!

No pink disneyland bags. No flashy notebooks. No chunky digital watches. But yes flying. Irony never took a more melancholy dive. Till today, every time I leave home I am wishing I have to take that flight back.

Its a whole new life here. Whole new romance here. Just, not home.






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