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It’s All About The Memories

Ameya Hari Bhaskaran Thursday, May 11, 2023
It’s All About The Memories

Gather around as I tell you a tale of one of the most heartwarming times of the year.

Ah, holidays are the most pleasant word in the dictionary. Even the most hardworking people need a break once in a while, so we went to home sweet home, India, during school holidays. As an amateur writer, I have many tales to share about the lush paddy fields, the sunset across the Western Ghats and Siberian cranes gliding in the rain. But since I can't cramp everything, I will write about the flight experience and give a bit of backstory.

Around four years back, I got the most disappointing news that we won't be able to go to India in two years, but then COVID rolled in, lockdowns, curfews and most importantly, travel restrictions came by.

But once the hair-raising, blood-chilling pandemic was coming to a close, we finally decided to travel, so since my mom was pleased with this year's performance at school, she thought of bringing me along for shopping.

Later, around three days before the trip, I learned that we were travelling with one of my acquaintances, Gowri, from Kaleri class (Yes, although I don't have many athletic records and suck at physical education, I like martial arts.) Her parents sent her and her little brother alone to meet their older sister. As a few of you know, I live in Kuwait, and flying economy is not cheap. So we went to Indigo. Either way, I was excited.

Then came the day I got ready and packed my bag with a handbook, biscuits and my mom's favourite extra peppermint gum(I still don't know why she likes them, I personally dislike them.)

We drove to the airport by car and waited for a long time for Gowri and her family to the point where my feet were ACHING.

So we called them and realized they were at the wrong airport, and eventually, we sorted things out and continued with the procedures.

Now, Gowri was an introvert who was shy and didn't talk much. She had a calm and soft tone. Remember that I told her parents were sending her and her brother alone? Well, the young boy was fine at first, saying goodbye to his parents around a MILLION TIMES. But later,

When his parents were no longer around, among the sea of Arabs, he got scared and cried. Gowri tried to console him, but it was of no use.

After we got that sorted out, we continued to move along the narrow queue for three hours, and my legs started to ache. By 2 AM, we left the row and moved along. We waited for our flight for an hour. I was excited to board a plane. The second we entered. It was blue and white all over the flight. I like reading aeroplane magazines and safety pamphlets for some obscure rationale.

By 5 o'clock, almost everyone was asleep. I looked around. It was dark inside the plane, but outside the window, the sky looked like a pastel rainbow on one side, while on the other, it appeared like a dark void. I ordered a tin of cookies on the flight. Too bad that most people didn't get to see this sight. After my nap, the flight reached the airport.

We walked around until we found our airport shuttle. I loved going on buses. They were a thrilling experience. We then looked around for our relatives, and when we found them, I hustled to them and gave them a warm greeting. It's been a long time, after all. Then we drove to my parents' childhood home. I eyed the lush green as we moved by them. Flowers were blooming, and coconut trees were all around. It was mesmerising. As we reached it, I glimpsed the butterflies in my grandfather's garden, the swing in my room, the roof and the carpets.

We went to parks and restaurants (I got to eat all the cheese I wanted, I like cheese.) Later, my cousins came over. I had a great time with them, playing board games and having a lot of fun. But the best part of 'home sweet home is the rain. It makes the perfect touch for the least epic football game. (I know, it doesn't seem that exciting.) I'd be pocketing toffees and intimidated ducks during daybreak and sitting on the swing before twilight.

We watched Siberian cranes fly by lush paddy fields in the sunset. It looked exquisite and sublime, like the Western Ghats from our car as we went on a road trip. I even decided to learn what plants look like (Since I didn't know what ginger looked like, I hadn't touched grass in a while, so that was an experience.) In our typical fashion, let's talk about pigeons. Now I have a profound fondness for pigeons. They are funny as they walk around, moving their heads as if peeping around.

But as all good things have to end, we had to say our tearful goodbyes before we left and drove along. My cousins said they wanted to do something before we departed. We made a starfish out of soap and kept it in my room the next time I came. I glanced back before looking forward, seeing my relatives before blurring out from a distance. As we drove in the car, it was noiseless till we reached the airport. I was looking forward to arriving in Kuwait. I watched the blinding lights, the Arabian Sea and the dunes from our plane. It was mesmerising.

It was a heartfelt moment to arrive at our good ole' home, India.

Home is, after all, a mistake-making, laughter-filled place of comfort. But since I have to move on and look forward to a brighter future, I shall place this essay as a recollection of memory lane. So I assume, dear reader, that this was a heartwarming tale for you. That ends the chapter 'Our home sweet home, India.'

Ameya Hari Bhaskaran
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Monday, May 22, 2023
Very nice

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