I have never quite understood how the same activity can create totally opposite feelings at different times…like the simple activity of packing for a holiday…from preparing the list, buying gifts to give, there is an innate sense of excitement and lightness. And then there is the packing to leave, that takes you away from family…there is an uneasiness, a feeling of heaviness. The heart and mind working in complete unison and you are just not in control of these feelings. They come and fade away on their own with no effort from one.
Alongwith the memories, if I could take back a little of the sounds, the smells, the feel of the breeze, if I could put it into a little box and be able to open that box and take a whiff of the air as and when I wanted it; going away wouldnt seem this difficult.
For now, I have taken a recording of the rain, I have recorded the black butterfly sitting on my daughter’s shoe and fluttering her wings, I have recorded the little ant carrying a piece of the chocolate wrapper that my daughter left behind; into the crevice in the wall, the monkey that came to our window and tried to get in, my girls listening to Nana’s (grandfather’s) stories that never fails to amaze them at any age, their ammuma (grand mom) making garam parathas (home made bread) for them which they whisk away while it’s being made and Muthasan (dad’s father) trying to get them to be quiet. All this and more is what makes holidays in India so special. The never ending love of family, their rules, their repeated questions to make sure we are ok is what one misses when one is away…
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