The Return

Returns can be happy or sad, some because you completed a task and some because you need to complete a task. Mine was about leaving a task mid-way, incomplete. And the inkling, that someday I would have to return to complete that task still had me reeling. But had it not been for this return maybe life would be very different, darker and even more monstrous than it is now.

Coming back to my city, the familiarity hit me like a truck. It was quite difficult at first to adjust to the fact that I was here, it was surreal. There is a peace even if it means sitting in a cab all the way from an airport for two hours through the severe Bangalore traffic. Even the traffic somehow manages to inspire some love in you and you can’t tell how. I sat there in my seat looking out of the window watching signboards pass. It felt like life, was passing by me just sitting in the seat and I wondered why I wasn’t in the driver’s seat, where I actually should have been.

My sister held my hand as she had held me up through the journey, even though half of her words swam in the pool of doubt inside my head, I still found comfort in her voice. There was so much pent-up, ten years’ of experiences pent up that needed to be addressed. Bangalore was where it all began. I passed the familiar roads and the familiar turns, all the misspelt signboards of little shops under street lights.

I fell into my mother’s arms when I got back home barely holding back tears, and I could see the questions on my father’s face, the unspoken agreement that we’ll talk about it all soon, just not then. A scrumptious dinner later, I felt the unnerving doubt, had I given up? Was this the end? Had I just thrown all that I worked for in a trash can and said I didn’t want it? I could have hit myself. I bit back the fears and tried to steady the pounding heart. I didn’t want to have a panic attack on the first day back home.

But my parents had already made a plan, a plan I would soon find out. Somehow since I still didn’t have a driver’s license, someone sat in the driver’s seat for me. I was now living for the look on my mother’s face when she said she loved me or my father’s smile when he saw me get out of the cab and for my sister’s hug that holds me up even when I can fall to her feet and never get back up. I had three pillars and I needed one more to keep this structure upright, less did I know the final pillar was me.

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