Plane rides, and memories

Plane rides to Vijay reminded him of many things.
Like a reel of pictures with every picture, every smell locked inside of them.
He never imagined he would return Home.
Home with a capital H.
Because that was the beginning of Everything. And strangely the End too.
It is ridiculous how little things can break your heart all over again.
Missed phone calls.
Or a series of unread emails.
One after another. Left unattended, neglected. They all seem to say the same thing. ‘Your sister is dead.’
It was an accidental discovery really. He didn’t mean to open anything that made him remember his Home.
He was afraid to go near them.
Those memories were like moths spreading it’s big brown ugly wings and settling in the corner, never making a sound but never letting him live in peace either.
Vijay worked in a grocery store in the morning and a local bar in the nights. He wanted to get out of his head. Because at nights when there’s nothing else going on his side of the world, his brain would take him all the way back to a hot sultry village in the other side of the world.
Vijay wanted to forget that part of his life, but strangely it seemed to him that it occupied everything.
Everything he does reminds him of his Home — a quiet girl, a drunken man and an empty hospital bed.
‘Plane to India is delayed by 15 minutes. Passengers are requested to be patient.’
15 minutes. He let out a breath
Five, ten and fifteen. Three 5 minutes.
He closed his eyes and began to count. 5 10 15. 5 10 15. 5 10 15.
Slowly and then fast. Forwards and then backwards.
When he opened his eyes he noticed that it was only 3 minutes since the announcement.
He closed his eyes again. But not for counting, but to remember the last time he saw his sister. His half sister —
A responsibility that was never asked.
A smile that was never returned.
— -
When she first came to his house, his father decorated the whole house and asked Vijay for approval. Vijay said he hated it and he found it hideous. Vijay got a slap across his face.
He wanted to know if they decorated the entire house when he arrived. He wanted to remember those things.
He demanded the love that his father was giving to his new wife and his half sister.
But, Love can’t be demanded.
Even from fathers.
And years later he would realize his father was never capable of Loving. Of giving back the Love he received. His heart is just too afraid of it.
His step mom entered with the baby. A tiny baby covered in sheets and blankets.
The smallness of the baby intrigued him, he took a step forward to look at her, and suddenly the face of his dead mother flashed before him and he ran away.
His step mother tried everything to make him feel like he belonged.
But the more she tried, the more Vijay resented her.
She was never his mom, she never could be.
According to Vijay, he was the victim — a lost childhood, a dead mother, a drunk father, a stranger as his step mom.
He blamed everyone for everything in his Life.
He deserved Love, he craved Affection, he demanded Attention.
But people can only do so much.
That thirst could never be satisfied for Vijay.
Sometimes he would look at his father in his drunken pathetic state, crying hurling abuses at his new wife, threats to throw the baby out.
Sometimes he would look long and hard at his fathers pathetic Love lacking face and used to think, this man needs lot of Love.
Gradually he embraced isolation.
It was where nobody could hurt him, it was where he could breathe in.
He made loneliness his friend.
It was the one who didn’t leave him when everybody in his life did.
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