Homeward Bound

I returned to my country after exactly one year and two months. Was I upset to leave London? May be a little but that was less because of my attachment to the country and more due to having grown used to that lifestyle.

But I was eager to return to India - return to my family and friends. As I stepped out of the International airport, a gush of warm wind hit my face. For most coming to this country it could be a little disturbing. But to me it was my country welcoming me back.

This was just the beginning of memories. Five days later I left for Lucknow. It is my cousin's wedding; a cousin I have not met since we both were nine. I was going back to the house that I had not visited since I was four. I did not know what to expect. The family was excited; they knew all the people - I was blank.

But I guess memories have their own ways. I walked inside the front gate and surprisingly I remembered every little detail. The front veranda where I spent hours playing frisbee with my grandfather (technically my grandmother's eldest brother) and then sulking because I lost, the Eucalyptus tree that no longer stands tall near the front window whose branches I touched while I lazed on the bed inside and bodo dadu told me stories and read me Sanchaita (of course, I discovered the name of the book years later), the balcony on the first floor that is now smaller in size because a room needed extension and the terrace that still held my memories intact.

I had returned to that house after 20 years and yet I felt as if I had never left. There is only one difference that can never be put back to match my memory - bodo dadu (my grandfather) is no longer there, sitting tall, smart and impressive, impeccably dressed, always craving for knowledge and a good, stimulating conversation.

There is a wedding in the house tomorrow, my cousin is about to embark on the most important journey of her life, we sisters are waiting for the moment when we can ensure that the groom has given up every single penny that he brought with him and amidst all this I know that bodo dadu is having his share of fun, watching over us.

The last time I left this house I left with the hope of returning some day but it took me 20 years. This time when I leave I don't know when I shall return. But I know that I shall carry the four year old me playing frisbee and sulking to bodo dadu forever inside me; I shall carry bodo dadu with me even if I never ever return to this house.

Oh yes! I have come back home.