When I left my country, I expected some of my closest persons to show up at the airport, for example, my bro Souvik or my then-boyfriend. Instead of them, it was my family who bid me goodbye. The sky was pouring down. It was such a gloomy day in Kolkata that I shed a drop of tear or two.
Was I not feeling anything?
Did I go numb?
Did I become a stone-hearted woman?
Nah, man.
I had already made up my mind. I was so fucking lonely in my own country that I thought it’s better to be lonely in a first world country. At least I can earn in better currency. I only had faith in my Lord.
As I was weighing my pieces of luggage at the check-in post, my father was looking at me over the glass wall. Ahh! This man; I can never hate this man no matter how much I want to. This man had taken care of me since I was little. He changed my diapers; he bathed me; he fed me; he brushed my hair. Then why do I wanna hate him?
It’s because of his anger issues.
Still, his blood runs through my vain. We have a striking resemblance. We have the same mannerism.
Before I stood in the queue for security, I wanted to hug him. But again, he doesn’t like hugs. Still, I ran to him. He handed me a lot of money so that I do not sleep hungry in the airport. I said, “Baba, I don’t need it. I have already enough money.” He still gave me 4000 rupees. Somehow ran back to the security line and I could feel that he was looking at me over the glass wall. No matter, how much he wished he couldn’t break it down.
It was not just a glass wall. It was separating a family. It marked the end of the first cycle of my life.
I have to be responsible now. I was on my own. I was no more a bud. I had to bloom into a wildflower.
It’s been more than one month in Leeds. I am slowly getting habituated to the British way of living. I learned to skip a full plate of rice at lunch. Nowadays I have salads only. I lost touch with my old, humid Indian life. I can no longer find chai. Instead, I am sipping into a cafe latte.
I can no longer see stray dogs here. All the dogs I see are well-groomed, well trained chained beasts.
It seems that the glass wall is growing taller every day. I can not give up at this point. I can not embrace that third-world lifestyle anymore. I made wonderful friends here. But my friends back there, keep missing me. They miss the weekend we spent at their flats.
But I know can’t go back there. My country didn’t give me the opportunity I deserved, neither did my countrymen. I was always an outsider to them, to my family, to everyone.
I foresaw this change way before I left. So I requested them to come to see me off. But none of them turned up. I waited for them. But the glass wall engulfed me eventually. They told me, “I didn’t want to sadden you. I didn’t want to be baggage on your way.” Even my then-boyfriend told me so.
How tragic!
To achieve my success, I had to abandon my supporters.
Maybe it was the Lord’s wish.
Maybe it was his wish to help me to reincarnate with this price.
In the end, the only reality was the glass wall standing between a father and his only daughter.
Moonstruck 