Saturday, September 19, 2015

Stitched

19th September 2013: 10 days after my cousin’s funeral, while I am still woozy in the head and my heart is constantly fluttering to pump back the blood in my body, I am flying. I am taking the flight towards a journey into a terra incognita of fish and chips. Gestating the tears of my family and the smell of fresh flowers from the boneyard as last memories, I am taking off. Unlike regular family farewells, there are no tequila shots and laughter bubbles this time. I have received no farewell from my family or my friends because I have been officious, struggling to come out of the fact that I just bid a farewell forever to someone I was not really very close to. Now, I wish, I knew him better. I wish, I had made more efforts to be there with him. I have never been close to him but I know, he has left a void in me, in us. I lam flying with a wish to stay back because I am daunted, things have changed and I am petrified, things will change further on my return.

I am sitting on the plane, ready to take off, wishing to get off, run home and sleep in my quilt till I am ready to move on. At the age of 22, I have finally learnt what it is to see someone in the grey, living between death and life. At the age of 22, I have witnessed death and felt the shivers through my spine.

Touchdown: Alright, I see London now. Why don’t I feel something? Where is the anxiety? Why do I not hear some EDM track in the silence of my mind? Okay, I have landed. I hope I see my cousin’s neighbour’s son and his family as soon as I get out. I hope, they’re there to pick me and I do not have to wait long. I hope, someone helps me get my bags onto the trolley.

Oh, there I see them. They seem to be really nice people. I swear, I do not remember the last time I saw them in India. Okay, their little son is adorable. He talks a lot but I am sure, I am going to absolutely love him.
Okay, so this is where I will be staying.
My feet are still shaky. It seems like I have slept forever but I think, I still want to sleep a little more. 

Darkness, I do not fear you anymore.
19th September 2015: Two years have passed since that day when I stayed strong, crusaded my tears all by myself sitting in the plane ready to soar. Myriad hours, countless days. I have never been this sensitive to time. I have realized these two years slice me into fine pieces. I was bereaving the death. I languished the loss of my best friend to love. I had to coat my tears with smiles and laughter when I spoke to my family back home.
I was not alright. I was messed up, I was tearing apart inside but the only way I saw, was to keep fighting the darkness and the cold. I have always been the strong one. Just when nothing was alright, things kept exacerbating.

Just when the dismal and shuddery winter was evanescing, I lost my godfather to felo-de-se. This I knew, would be my third biggest regret in a span of less than 10 months.

There has not been a single day when I have not thought of travelling back into time and changing a few things, reconsidering a few of my decisions and so on. I religiously think of going home, for good. No day ends without my heart craving the warmth of my family.

I knew, it was not easy but least did I expect it to be so hard.

It has been spine-chilling. I have felt deserted. I have been oblivious to existence. I wanted to run away and hide. I wanted to stay in bed forever.

However, those sliced pieces of me have come together and have tardily, started reliving. I now find a reason to get out of bed.

I have learnt how to travel solo, like a pro and how to make friends on the way. I can now engage in talks about art with strangers in a pub. I am now responsible enough to make my own bed and pack my own lunch. I have finally accepted my little room as my home. Now, I find the mornings beautiful.
I have finally started being a little more of myself again.

It has been painful but it has been worth it.
My legs are less shaky. My heart is not as heavier. I have learnt to let go.

Thank you, London.
You may have not been beautiful but you have certainly been eventful!