Sometimes we leave some things never to come back to them. Sometimes, some things are lost, irriversibly. We leave places and people and feelings and home, all in search of better versions of these. We don't realise we already have them.
The last time i went home, I realised the
'reality' i had left for the 'idea' of something else. Back home, when i saw the endless beautiful declivities and oak leaves shrinking on the corners of alleyways, i realised what beauty i had left behind to live in these abysmally suffocating beehives. It felt like a rebirth. I could feel the wonder of an infant who was seeing the world for the first time. Every small thing drew my attention like never before. I chose asphyxia over the breeze that felt like the scent of heaven. I left the long walking lanes for these insomniac roads, never quiet, never at peace. I shut my eyes to the gentle kisses of soft sunshine and the expansive star-laden skies to a sky that is perpetually tainted grey and turns into some dense lustreless black at night. I could see so much this time. Voids indeed return abundance its ingnored glory.
Besides all this, there were two faces that actually put me into this loop of thoughts. These two faces had suddenly grown a little older. They stood at the bus stand to receive me. They had never smiled so wide. I could see a couple of grey hair, and probably two - three more wrinkles near the eyes and their footsteps were a little more ponderous than before. They had not been taking care of themselves of course.
Anyway, after days i ate food dipped in love! The house bustled so much with my arrival that i could see it had longed long enough for my presence.
The day i had to return, i felt the significance of having just 'one more day' or being able to stay just a 'little bit longer'. I realised the tragedy of distance. 'Home' was now a weekend and traveling was my actual life, the life i couldn't escape now. It should've been the other way round. I realised what had happened. I would have a little bit of home between the never ending excursion. I couldn't tell that old couple, once i am gone, i might be gone forever and our meetings would only get more seldom with the passage of time. Their faces had so much hope and so much longing, that i couldn't just tell them what plans life had for me. I realised there's no coming back. There's no point of return. I am a few miles away today, i might go a few miles further and further and maybe even to some other part of the globe. Once out of the house, i had left for a long journey. Probably one with no coming back.
When Dad hugged me, his tears spoke volumes. Somewhere i knew i did not have to tell him anything, he knew it. Selflessly, he let me go and kept his share of the longing. Mom put up a brave face like always and i treated her with the same, seeming all unmoved and unstirred by the turmoil within. We wished goodbye and the weekend was over. I boarded the bus to get back to the city sans oxygen, sans skies, sans rest, sans love. I looked back at mom dad, waved at them and saw them standing there till the bus was all out of sight.