I am home – after one year of mismanaged corporate leaves, of absolute emotional helplessness, of growing up, of handling things myself, of grief that came in June, of being broke and un-pampered, and unhappy and of being mad at myself and the world around me.
It’s only when I saw my mother, pale and weeker, with dark circles, waiting for me outside the building elevator in her pale, green domestic nighty, with eyes eagerly scanning me for my well being, that I realised how much I miss her, and her concern which is now only telephonic. I stepped inside my house consciously only to see that not much has changed… my father, in his usual baniyan and night pyjamas, appeared from the bedroom welcoming me with warm words…I could barely hear anything as I could only see wide, genuine smiled all over…what I could see around was the family that is mine, and the place I belong to.
Growing up brings with itself several issues – one of deciding ‘over’ the other. My career is as important to me as my family, and vice versa. I would probably feel incomplete without either (God forbid) in any case…
Anyway, what saddens me is to see them age… to catch the greyishness of age which is considered old… for some reasons, your parents are like ROCKSTARS who are eternally young and powerful… and seeing them in a light which reflects the otherwise, it sort of puts you at unrest with yourself. I feel guilty for being away, for giving importance to my career than to them…for being away for so long…
This is my biggest mistake yet and I am going to ensure that I see them as often as I can. I can’t believe I stayed away for so long.
I love them so much. I do, I do.
Weather? Delhi – so HOT!
State-of-mind – at peace
Song? (it’s on radio – zaraa jhoom, jhoom…!!!! )
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