If ooparwalla did not see anytyhing obnoxious in my innocent intentions of visiting my motherland, I am all set to fly in just eight days.
The ordeal of my last time overseas travel is still so green in my heart that I am trying to be ultra vigilant this time. I remember the horrifying scene of my big suitcases swelling with loads and stuffs lying unaided on the floor still to be packed, in the house of my little sis in Bangalore just a couple of hours before it was time to leave India almost permanently. There were calls from all over India and I did not know whether to answer my Chachas, Mamas or to answer the dismayed face of my beloved jeans which I had to leave there in the merciless hands of my sis conspiring to use it as a pooncha kapada. And Ra as usual was absconded to some place where neither my mobile not I myself could reach. I am not sure whether it my empty stomach or the huge mess I created all over that made me realize that The walls of my sisters house were actually whirling in front of my eyes. I wanted to cry both because of the headache of suitcases going out of control of my hands and because of the heartache of leaving my motherland but I had time for none. OHH MY GOSH I had never seen anything horrendous like that before trust me.
I counted the items that I have missed there in that pretty little house of my little sis at every single hour of my journey and the final one that I realized only after a few days of stepping my foot in this alien land were my H1 papers.
And do not ask me how I managed without the papers, only comment that I want to make is, it was a lesson learnt really hard. My suitcases are almost packed this time, yes Papa eight days in advance, sorry for realizing your theory little late. No more pending shopping, let my distant relatives small kids starve since I forgot there share of chocolates.
I will be flying next weekend to my motherland, to you Mom and to you Papa, to you Maa and to you Babi, to my land of authentic golgappe's and adarak waali chai's, to my land of colorful saaris and salwaar suits, to the festive seasons of Deepawali and Puja, to the smell of ghee waali rotis and to the aromas of gajjar waala pulavs, to my land where people look like me, to my land where people speak my languagge, to my land where I do not need a social security number, to my land where I do not need to carry my passport, yes I will be flying to my motherland next weekend ... zooomm
The ordeal of my last time overseas travel is still so green in my heart that I am trying to be ultra vigilant this time. I remember the horrifying scene of my big suitcases swelling with loads and stuffs lying unaided on the floor still to be packed, in the house of my little sis in Bangalore just a couple of hours before it was time to leave India almost permanently. There were calls from all over India and I did not know whether to answer my Chachas, Mamas or to answer the dismayed face of my beloved jeans which I had to leave there in the merciless hands of my sis conspiring to use it as a pooncha kapada. And Ra as usual was absconded to some place where neither my mobile not I myself could reach. I am not sure whether it my empty stomach or the huge mess I created all over that made me realize that The walls of my sisters house were actually whirling in front of my eyes. I wanted to cry both because of the headache of suitcases going out of control of my hands and because of the heartache of leaving my motherland but I had time for none. OHH MY GOSH I had never seen anything horrendous like that before trust me.
I counted the items that I have missed there in that pretty little house of my little sis at every single hour of my journey and the final one that I realized only after a few days of stepping my foot in this alien land were my H1 papers.
And do not ask me how I managed without the papers, only comment that I want to make is, it was a lesson learnt really hard. My suitcases are almost packed this time, yes Papa eight days in advance, sorry for realizing your theory little late. No more pending shopping, let my distant relatives small kids starve since I forgot there share of chocolates.
I will be flying next weekend to my motherland, to you Mom and to you Papa, to you Maa and to you Babi, to my land of authentic golgappe's and adarak waali chai's, to my land of colorful saaris and salwaar suits, to the festive seasons of Deepawali and Puja, to the smell of ghee waali rotis and to the aromas of gajjar waala pulavs, to my land where people look like me, to my land where people speak my languagge, to my land where I do not need a social security number, to my land where I do not need to carry my passport, yes I will be flying to my motherland next weekend ... zooomm
Mujhe mitti bulati hai
bada dil ko dukhati hai
kya karooooooooo, mai kya karoo?
Love - Aru !
1 comment:
Wish you a happy journey Aru. Hope you are not going by Air India. Keep well.
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