Walking back

Some things get etched in one's memory - like an adamant tattoo that refuses to disappear. The details may fade, but it remains.

Ashwin, my hubby, was on his way to Chicago - a short business trip. It was 12:30 in the night and I walked him to the cab, luggage and all. Cabbie loaded the bags into the boot and Ashwin said he would leave once I went back home - two reasons- one, it was late and dark and him leaving me alone at the gate was uncomfortable. Secondly, it would be easier on both of us and help to avoid the mushy adieu scenes which would apparently take place. So we bid good bye once again and I walked back to our lift, to our apartment on the fourth floor. I did not turn back. Turning back would have been overwhelming. And as I walked, the comforting summer breeze brought some respite, to the heat inside and out. Together with it, it brought a rush of memories as well.

My mind rolled back to the time when Ashwin had left for Melbourne, 5 years ago. It was the first time he was going abroad. We had been married for an year then- young, immature and naive. I was 24, he 25. I had accompanied him to the airport. It was a small airport at Begumpet then, at the centre of the city, in the midst of all the traffic; Not the opulent international terminal that Hyderabad boasts of today (Rajiv Gandhi international was yet to be constructed).The flight was during daytime. We both were very teary eyed. When he finally left, I felt lost, in all senses. I had walked back to catch an auto, my head drooping down to hide the uncontrollable tears from the crowd. A strange pain tugged at my heart. [Would like to quote a dialogue from "My name is Khan" - "I felt a strange pain when I left you Mandira. I thought it was gas. I even tried ginger tea hoping to find some relief. The pain did not go away though." ] I had prayed for Ashwin to return fast. That was all I wanted, all I wished for, all I could think of. I had got into an auto and mumbled something totally incoherent to the driver - our address - simultaneously trying to suppress my sobs. I was going back to an empty home and would be alone for a whole month - the thought was unbearable - love does strange things to you. The auto driver was a wise man. He somehow figured where I wanted to be dropped. The moment I had reached home and opened the door, I had run inside and cried my heart out for a long time. Not sure for how long.

Time had flown. 5 years later, he was leaving again, without me - to Chicago - for a month. This time when I walked back, it was different. I was a grown woman. I knew my man would come back in a month's time and he had to make this trip - duty calls. I walked fast. My two year toddler was sleeping alone in our bedroom. My pace sped up when I thought of him waking up in the dark and looking for me. I also thought of my parents in the other room, who had aged considerably in the last few years. They had come for a short visit and were leaving the next day. They needed to go back - to their home, to their zone, to their doctors, to their domestic help. I thought of the trip I would be making to my native place the next day ( Achu and me staying alone in Hyderabad without Ashwin was difficult and it was time I had a break) with my aging parents and my baby. I prayed for it all to go well and that no one would fall ill till we reached there. That was all I could think of, all I wanted then, at that moment.Priorities change, thoughts change, needs change, prayers change - with time. Change is good. Recently a friend said - "If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies." .

Today as I write this, I wish for my man to be back soon. My baby keeps telling me he wants to go back home. For him, home is where his mom and dad are. We need to go back to our lives, to our togetherness. But now, today , it is my break. And it is quite pleasant here at Trivandrum, the place where I grew up. One cant complain much when one's granny is still around, fussing over oneself as though one were a baby. Cheers!