Wrichik Sengupta
You know, whenever we feel lost, put down, or sad, there's just one place that we're reminded of. Home.
From recognizing our parent’s footsteps to the rustling of the leaves in the garden, from our Mother's beating to her tender care, from the fear of failure to the joy of success, our home has seen everything, felt everything, and kept us safe from everything. Do you remember how we used to get those lozenges from the shop uncle every time we went with our mother to the local shop? That used to make me very happy. Now that all of us are growing up we have faced life, or just starting to. I, for one, can't get happiness out of much now and I have come to realize that happiness never came knocking on our doors in a grand manner, but it came in small packages, like a few toffees stuffed in our pockets. Anyway, remember the time you got your first cycle? You were determined that you will go full Lewis Hamilton on it but instead, you kept falling and you learned that success does not mean zero failure but a process of failures and experiences, leading to your success. And like this, going through ups and downs in life, came a moment when I had to leave home when home wasn't the place where I would come back to from a vacation but the place where I looked forward to going for vacation.
For higher studies, I had to go to a different city, Bangalore which is far from home. After completing all the formalities, when the time had come for my parents and my sister to leave, all of them told me little things from their own sides. Baba said " You have to do well in your studies and no reluctancy," my sister said, " Dada Please tell me when you finally have a girlfriend" but my mother, she couldn't say much. I could see that she was struggling to hold back her tears and all she said was "Your favorite fried bananas and cream rolls are kept inside the purple bag, if you feel hungry, have them".
I too was getting a little emotional at this moment but then again, I was more excited with the idea of freedom which I was just a few minutes away from. So I said my bye-byes and walked into the hostel.
The first few weeks were amazing. New friends, new place, no pressure. I could do anything I wanted. I was free.
There was no one to keep nagging me to study, if I wanted to study then I would study, and if I didn't, then I had all the time in the world to do anything.
But then came examinations and I had to face the fruits of my efforts. I had failed. Back home, my father was angry, my mom was silent. After all, what more could they do being so far away. Seeing my parents sad because of me made me feel a type of grief I had not felt before and the worst part, I could not say anything either.
That day, I couldn't go down for dinner on time as I was too upset but when I finally did, food was already put aside and I was too late. While I was at home, I used to put aside the regular food which was prepared, cursing the dish that was made but now, when I needed food, I couldn't get a single bit of it. The life which I was imagining to be paradise turned out to be a scary nightmare.
As I went back to my room, I opened my purple bag, took a bite of my favorite cream roll, and realized that whenever we feel lost, put down, or sad, there's just one place that we're reminded of and that is HOME.