Going Home (1/2)
Part 1:
The midnight sky wept in the darkness. It longed for an end to its eternal wait to unite with its daughter. To finally feel the warmth of the ocean. To finally breathe loving cajoles and lullabies into its ears.
Every day, the sky saw its daughter. Yet the mother was never allowed to go near her child. Both the child and the mother yearned for each other. Millions of blue hands would rise like waves, longing for the loving touch of a mother. But it was never meant to be. The only thing they could do was keep reaching out for the rest of their lives.
For the rest of eternity, they were doomed to a fate of longingly staring at each other. The sky and the ocean would never meet.
The sky began to cry again. This time, out of the pangs of separation. The rain became the only way they could ever talk. Each tear that fell on the ocean told it about how the sky missed it in a million different ways. The tears caressed the cheeks of the ocean and became part of it. Their hearts broke every day.
It was one such day when the sky wept. The joyous stars were hidden behind a curtain of gloomy clouds. Through the curtains, raindrops fell. One by one, it went with purpose towards the ocean. The mischievous winds veered a few drops out of the way into a nearby bridge.
Cars were zooming past, with headlights on. The street lights blinked. And the darkness engulfed everything else.
Black leather shoes trudged lightly on the puddles, splashing water everywhere.
A woman stood on the edge of the bridge, on the sidewalk, facing a man.
“Does it hurt?”, the man asked the woman.
“Does what hurt?”
“Does it hurt to be alive, and yet still be dead inside?”
Part 2:
The rainy winds lashed at my face. I had my eyes closed. The only thing in front of me was supposed to be darkness. Even then, I could see everything. I could see the rain hitting against the black tarry road. The cars passing over the puddles, and splashing water everywhere. The raindrops hitting against the freshly painted metal railings. The violent winds pulling the trees and trying their best to carry it off somewhere else.
It tried to do that to me too. All I had to do was just let go.
“Just one moment” the winds whispered.
“Just let go, and we promise to take you away from all your troubles.”
“Take me.” I pleaded.
No longer did I want to stay here. Trapped in this pitiful body and doomed to this exhausting existence.
I wanted to get lost in the music of the rain, get carried away by the winds, and have my soul turn into a colorful rainbow.
“Take me. Please. Before I do something stupid. “
But no one seemed to hear me. No one saw my tears. No one saw my pain.
“Does it hurt?” a familiar voice asked me.
I opened my eyes, resigned.
I saw my brother standing right opposite to me, staring deep into my eyes.
Behind the black sunglasses at the tip of his nose, I saw his onyx eyes and through them, his soul. It was a rainbow. So colorful. So full of life.
“Does it hurt to keep on living like this? With no soul, and only a shell of a body?”
I tried to hold back my tears. I couldn’t.
I closed my eyes and leaned forward, trying to get into the gentle embrace of my brother. I passed right through him and fell awkwardly onto the ground on my stomach.
Muddy water entered my mouth, and wet my body. I was way past the point of actually caring. My hands stung. My body ached. But it was all okay. It didn’t even matter in the end.
I rolled over to my back and raised my hands, trying to grasp the vast sky in my tiny hands.
The rain continued to drench me. Each drop told me why the sky cried. It told me of the sky's sorrows. And I told the sky of my sorrows. The sky was all I had.
After a few minutes, I stood up back on my feet. I walked back towards the edge of the bridge and climbed on top of the metal railing.
The ocean seemed to be stretching on endlessly. The waves futilely reached out towards the sky.
I closed my eyes and stretched my arms. The wind tried to push me away again. The voice of my brother rang in my ears again. A happy place tried to call out to me again. But enough was enough.
I’m just a lost kid trying to go back home. To a place where I can be myself again. To a happy place which I won’t ever have to leave.
I opened my eyes. It stopped raining. A white sedan went right through where I stood. The railings broke apart. The car passed right through me. I was inside it. I saw my brother grasp me. I saw my panicking mother. I saw my dad whose face slowly morphed into one of acceptance. For all he knew, this was the last thing our family would ever see. This bridge and the blue ocean terrified us.
Memories that I tried to forget came rushing back.
Looking out of the back seat window, the ocean looked menacing. I didn’t want to go anywhere near it. And yet, it was futile. That was exactly where we were headed. Into an ocean of darkness.
My brother gripped my hands. He stared at me through his sunglasses, fixed on the bottom of his nose. His eyes led the way into a wonderful world filled with rainbows and sunshine.
“Nothing’s going to happen to us”. He told me confidently.
You were wrong, chetta. I lost everything I ever cared about that day.
And now I’m coming back to you all.
It's been sixteen years since. It started to rain again. It's back to just me and the ocean.
The ocean no longer looks menacing. Sixteen years later, it looks like home chetta.
I jumped.
And I felt weightless for the first time in my life.
Part 3:
When I was six years old and wrapped in your arms, I only had a single thought, chetta. I wanted to live. And the ocean stood in my way.
I wanted more happy memories. And the ocean stood in my way. I wanted to be pampered by you, even more. And the ocean stood in my way.
I wanted to live.
And the ocean stood in my way.
Even after I escaped from that car and was rescued from the clutches of the ocean, it was as if I had never left. A part of me still lingers around, trapped in a glass cage. It keeps playing everything over and over.
I still feel everything. The nervous knots in my stomach. The sudden stillness of my voice. My yearning to live.
I had lived six very long years then. And I have lived eighteen very long years after that. But I don’t think even these twenty-four years put together has ever felt as long as those five or so minutes.
And now again, I feel the same. It feels as if I’ve been falling forever. As if I’ve been weightless forever.
The past just keeps on playing over and over again in my head, chetta. And as I close my eyes, it feels like we’ve never even been apart.
I am beginning to hear your voice that dripped with the colors of life. Your eyes are once again in front of me, and within them, I see a rainbow that celebrates the joy of life.
I miss how a gentle blanket of colors would wrap me in its comfort whenever I was around you. It was so dark without you.
Finally, I have the colors of my life back. And now, I’ll never let go. I’ll be draped in your warmth forever.
In those five minutes, I saw the warmth you always had in your eyes disappear. The rainbow was gone. And in its place came a weeping storm.
That was when I realised the ocean was about to gobble me up.
The ocean was going to swallow everything I ever cared for.
And I was helpless.
“I want to live more,” I said under my breath.
I don’t know whether you heard me chetta. It's just my feeling that you did.
Every night, I dreamt of you. You carried me and swam in the cold ocean for what must have seemed like an eternity. And when help finally did come, you were only able to save me, and not yourself.
By the time the firefighters came for you, you drowned. You went back to join Ma and Pa underneath the ocean. And the only thing I was left with was the memories of your warm chest pressed against my face.
When I said I wanted to live more, I meant with you chetta. You were the light that made me want to live.
No more will I be separated from my family. I’m finally coming home.
Part 4:
A home. I have long forgotten what it feels like to have a home. I’ve felt like a traveler for my entire life. I’ve moved from one building to the other. Stayed together with a lot of people. Stayed at a lot of places. Put down 17 different addresses on different forms. Had three buildings to call my own.
Yet, not one of them felt like home. Every place I went to, felt lifeless. Like there was nothing that made me want to come back to it. It felt soulless.
So what was home?
Was a home someplace you just lived in? Or was it where you felt like you could be yourself? Did I really have no home?
Now I realised that home wasn’t a place. It was a feeling. It was a place to finally feel accepted.
And now, the longer I keep staring at the ocean I’m drawing closer to, the more it feels like home. The more I feel accepted.
Yes, after 18 long years, I finally have a home again.
To be continued.
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