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Selfless, Doubtless, Timeless

“Bhakt-jano ke sankat, kshan mein door kare…om jai jagdish hare…”
Music and chants, first thing when you wake up will go down as one of most undesirable things in list of waking up to what in morning…but this was different. This was my Dad saying his usual morning prayers with loud ting-ting of bells. I’ve heard him do this for years unknown. It has always been the same. I am half asleep with this ringing in near vicinity. I know where to notice if he fumbles or eat the words he forgets…I know the stanza he loves as his voice gets deep and pitch high…its been the same. It has always been exactly this…Even when I would return weekly from hostel in Delhi or fortnightly from the job in Gurgaon. This was same at the time of quarterly visits from Calcutta and Mumbai…And this time, after 6 months from Dubai…
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I had mixed feelings, and guilt. I did feel like chicken as well. It has been less than a year that I moved to Dubai and since then, this was my first proper visit back home in Delhi. I landed in my dearest city and foremost urge was to drive so I took to the wheel from airport itself. And then it stuck me. A usually patient driver and non swear-er on roads, I could register discomfort with everything, the roads, drivers, mannerism, staring while at signals and driving and stopping anywhere like ‘baap ki sadak...’
Whilst I can count on fingertips how many times I would have heard people honking on roads in Dubai... here I was, forced and nurtured to use it liberally. Infact I remember how in Bombay, I did without rear view mirror for a month but got my car horns fixed the same day! And needless to say, this was just the beginning of registering my alienation.
Next was bigger issue. Nearing home, you see how things look precisely how you left them, as if you saw these streets yesterday. Same cars parked at same spots and park gates still squeaking… and then you reach home…the place you don’t see much or enough. But still, once in a while, you expect to see your ‘room’ curtains after you wake up in the house you live now...
This room at home is also weird and funny. It’s the prime-most example of how much you can relate and dissociate to the same place all at the same time. You grew up here, studied for exams, hopped on chairs to kill mosquitoes on ceiling and stole midnight phonecalls right here. Now it resembles a huge travel pouch. Same set of clothes, towels and slippers that you use everytime you visit…and how you still live out of your suitcase though your almirah is empty…And you always forget to carry your toothbrush and open fresh one to be used for a week…each time.
And the things, as if they too love to travel, have exchanged places. Scissors are no more in 2nd drawer from top and medicine box and its location has changed. Usually it’s being back to handicap of asking mom everything, and she doing it for you instead as it’s futile to get updated on latest whereabouts just for a week.
That is that-biggest irony in your face. You travel and meet people and find friends and make ties and break hearts. Then you come back home and see clearly, what actually life is. Then large tensions and clinical depressions of your life seem mundane. You see how clarity means knowing so well that there is no question of doubt.
Yes, no denying that life moves very fast. I did feel perplexed about what to do 2 hours after I arrived…and also wondered how I am going through this upcoming week. You do what you do. You want to be there you don’t want to be there…
But like eyes adjust to dark, or light for that matter, you adjust again. Look forward to idling in a room knowing mom is reading in the balcony. Knowing that the demand of certain dish and its appreciation makes her day and knowing how dad is not too expressive by nature but elated that you came. Its funny and strange- this ‘love.’ This must be the benchmark of definition of love. Giver is selfless, recipient is doubtless, validity is timeless. Like we count life and days by various measures suited to us- cups of coffee, multiples of money, next meal, number of travels, they measure theirs by your visits. It is the most amazing feeling to know you are on top of someone’s priority list. You are 'forever' their 'always.'
The short stay at home gets ebbed in and out between family dinners, routine mall visits, TV watching together, discussing obvious paas-padosh ki news and sleeping. You do nothing. You do at times walk to your room to read the book or watch series just like everyday-except that parents are sitting outside instead of strangers.
And then it happens. You amaze yourself again with surfacing void inside of you as you start filling in you bag with nicely ironed clothes and this medicine and that pickle. Only when this restlessness comes, you realize the peace you had all these days. All they did was stay around, doing about simple things around the house-and it made the world a better place...
...And you amaze yourself how you choke a little or fight tears, even after staying away for so long, as car starts towards the airport. Bang, given a choice you would go anyway since that is now life, but you don’t want to go. Wonder how that is achievable! You just don’t want to be where you are...
It is great to meet parents after a long time. It is great to meet parents every time. No matter how much time you have spent away idling in hostels and different cities, it’s always worth any amount of money and distance to travel and meet  mom-dad.
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So long till I wake up again amidst bells and chants...
 "maat pita tum mere, sharan gahun kiski swami sharan gahun kiski tum bin aur na
dooja, aas karun jiski om jai jagdish hare..."

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