31,998 feet above the sea level, half a world away from home.
With Pacific Ocean beneath her, a nigro behind her, an American beside her, with eight hours more left to travel(only 50% of the journey), all she had with her was love, of the people she saw for one last time fifteen hours ago from then.
Every now and then she remembers the crying face of her childhood friend,
Every now and then, she remembers the heavy, crying voice of her bestfriend,
Every now and then, she remembers glimpses of home and the people she called home.
They served a piece of chocolate with lunch in the airplane. She can’t get over the split second reaction of hers to put the chocolate in her bag for her sister, because this time, she wasn’t heading home, she was heading away from home.
And by home, I don’t mean the six room, lavish flat she stayed in, the luxurious furniture she had in her room,
By home, I mean the people who love her, the people who care for her, the people who aren’t able to imagine their lives without her.
And she, sat in the window seat, with her legs spread wide, trying to contemplate what lies ahead of her.
Do we really let go of our pasts, or do we carry them along with us?
Do we really change from what our friends have made us, or do we carry it along?
Do we really forget school friends, and life becomes all about competition in the real world, or do we have them forever?
People have always tried to convince me that we eventually lose contact with school friends. Life becomes so chaotic and busy, that your current friends turn more important than the old ones. Can I prove them wrong?
I wish I never go out of touch with my friends who mean the world to me, friends who are there despite any mishap, any misunderstanding, friends I’m happy with, friends who define my life.
Every child she saw in the airplane, reminded her of the younger brothers and sisters.
Every cry of a child made her want to go to the child and pick him up is her hands and kiss her.
I wish, when I come back to my city, I have my friends to go to, everytime.
I wish, when I go to my friends, I have them love me more than the last time, everytime.
I wish, when my friends love me more than anything, we smile, and laugh and giggle while talking, everytime.
Making my life perfect.
I wish when I’m back my friends are still my home.
I wish when I’m back, my sister is awake at 2:30 am in the night only to tell me what happened in school.
I wish when I’m back, my grandmother is only half asleep, waiting for me to come and hug her.
“Love isn’t about possessiveness, it’s about strength”, she deciphered in the sixteen hour journey, hoping that her friends and family become her strength to fight the world, and not her weakness to come back to the city.
And perhaps, it’s not letting go, it’s taking along.