I’m homesick. I feel like I just got married, and they are doing my ‘bidaai’. Yes, after a year of marriage, and 3-sumthing-months.
I love my husband, love my house, and I have no problems in my marriage, except one – this is not home. This is not where I grew up, and my mom is not here.
Mixing the rice with home-made-dal (by mamma), tears kept falling into the plate. Mark is shocked, “Why are you crying?”
“I want to go home. I miss mom, and dad. See how well she made the dal for me. Dad got grapes for me, and I didn’t even eat them. We left without eating anything.”
“So we will go back my love, should I take you home now?”
“No, I will learn to adjust.”
We go to my inlaws’ for celebrating a birthday. My parents were the guests for the evening. I was so overjoyed to meet them. I served them and we all had a great time together. Our families really get along well. Everything was fine, until it was time for my parents to leave.
It was then I realised, I hardly sat beside my mom and spoke to her. I was busy serving her and she was busy socializing, and we hardly spent any time. But they were leaving. I was still OK.
We escorted them to the car, and my dad, absent-minded that he is, gestured as if to let me in to the car also, as if we all were going back home together. And we were not. I closed the doors of the car for them, and I didn’t get in the car. They left. I didn’t go home.
My heart was heavy but I just sucked it up.
And then at midnight, when Mark was about to kiss me goodnight, the floodgates opened and I wept and wept. I want home. I want my parents. I now realise that I am married,and my parents are now guests for me, and they left for home, and didn’t take me with them. I am married. I am not home.
Glanced through all the pictures in my phone – every single picture I could find, of mom and dad. I have never cried like this for a long time now – it has been years. I remembered the time I would cry to go to school, because I hated to leave my parents. I would tell mom, “You don’t love me so you are sending me away” and such senti-dialogues,which of course, never worked.
But at least I came back home at the end of the day.
Now I have a different home – it has all the comfort I need, except my parents.
So I came home and have been here, with mom, for the past two days. And I’m so happy. I even asked Mark to stay back with his folks after his football on Sunday. Tomorrow, I go back home.
And I don’t know why, I again feel, as if it is ‘bidaai’ time,as if I just got married and this handsome guy is taking me away, again, to a new home that I ‘made’ to be mine.
Back to school. Holidays over.
I’m sure mom will pack food again, and I’m gonna go to my new home, unpack it and again unpack my emotions.
This is never-ending. Countless ‘bidaais’ to follow…
Anyone been here before ?