It’s the day to leave. The not-so-awaited day has proved its point. It had warned me of its inevitable nature long before when I headed home some days back. Just that it went unnoticed at that moment as I remained overwhelmed by the joyous thoughts of homecoming. Not just for me, homecoming has always been a subject of profound joy for mankind. Be it for warriors who fought battles without caring for their lives. For men of business who wandered in far-off places for years. For students who assimilated knowledge at gurukuls. Even today homecoming finds apt relevance. We are governed by emotions and these emotions have managed to percolate deep into our genes.
Fresh are the memories of the day I was to leave for home. Things looked happy as I packed my bags. The songs in my playlist appeared surprisingly wonderful. Early morning cold shower failed to offer any pain. Anything that easily caused irritation on a usual day somehow gave up its basic sadist instinct. World suddenly looked like a happy place to live in. Journey was fuelled by thoughts of people at home. Drowned in positive anticipations I too felt it. The joy of homecoming!
It’s an altogether different story today. I stand in my balcony observing things my eyes manages to see. Heart certainly wishes to see none. Overcoming my natural tendency to procrastinate, I’ve packed my bags. Sipping, what should be my last coffee at home, I walk around. The living room, the verandah, the corridors; there are memories attached. They seem to be embedded in walls and have stories to tell. Not that the world outside home is a prison, it’s just that the pain of leaving home is almost par with the joy of homecoming and it takes a bit from everyone.
It's the time of final hug and kisses as I shoulder my luggage. I turn back after having gone a little far. Heart yearns like a child. A child who feels like home is going away from him. It yearns and insists home to stay. Some more days and I will be done. Some more days with mom, in the kitchen! Some more celebration, just like the one we had. Some more days spent in blanket doing nothing. Some more evening chats with dad. The rebukes, the love, some more of them and I’m done. Some more of everything that can happen only in place called home! It keeps yearning until feet have dragged themselves sufficiently far for eyes to turn back and see anything.