Homecoming

sesungguhnya realiti itu tidak indah;

I'm coming home, coming home.

Tell the world  I'm coming home.

 I remembered sleeping in my empty room that last night before I left. The possessions I held dear were all packed away and waiting at the foot of the door for the postman to pick up. I used to think that this room was a bit too small, too cramped. Instead now it was more spacious than I could have ever imagined. My bed had been sold off, and it was just me on the floor snuggled into my flowery futon, staring away at these same four walls that have held all my secrets. Has four years really passed, since I first started here?  

It was different when you are the only one to be graduating, the only one to be leaving. While you were busy packing, and settling things that needed settling, everyone else was starting a new semester. It was in that final week I truly found out how detrimental mellowing in past memories could be. It was also where I figured out how much people want to be remembered, and how the even slightest idea of being forgotten can set of wave, after wave, after wave of endless emotions. Every end is a beginning after all, and every hello has a goodbye. 

Let the rain, wash away

All the pain of yesterday       

It was 4.00 in the morning when I left for the airport. Boarding the bus in the empty morning, where I saw my city for what might be the very last time. There were no space for lengthy goodbyes, or farewells because when it's time for you to go. You just go. While deep inside I was certain that I was never going to forget the people and this place, I could only hope that I too, had been a good enough of a memory for them to remember me by. 

I know my Kingdom awaits,

and they've forgiven my mistakes 

It already felt like home the moment I stepped on board the plane. The stewards playfully teasing at the plush tiger I had strapped to my back. Kind faces that have tried helping me when my bag had been overweight, asking if everything had been alright. I put on my seat belt, cuddling Chandu I cried silently in my seat as the plane lifted off into the blue morning sky. Not really sure if they were tears of sadness, or tears of joy. Tears of leaving, or tears of coming home. Tears of endings or tears of beginnings.  It didn't help that they had Adele's full album on their playlist. One can only be so affected by such brilliant vocals and meaningful lyrics for a whole 6 hours. 

I'm coming home, coming home

I told myself a lot of things before making these decisions. In the past they had seem so life threatening, so life changing, that every step taken was full of doubts and caution. I couldn't help but contemplate my choices, if I had indefinitely made the right or wrong one. 

Tell the world I'm coming 

Today my mornings would be sitting in the kitchen with Mama while we planned the days menu and plans. She'd tell me about what she had been learning at the masjid, or her latest worries. Babah would do the dishes and fill us in on any news, asking continuously if I had filled in all my applications and if there was a fair we could go to. I've just realized how long I've actually been gone through the wrinkles of Mama's chubby white fingers, wiping the dishes, and Babah's tired eyes. I guess I sometimes forget because they still do so much for me, when I'm supposed to be the one doing everything for them. It might have been pretty difficult back then, but looking at the three of us now, sneaking mangoes in the middle of the night so that the children wouldn't see us, I knew for sure I was on the right path. After all, there's only so many places we can truly call 

home

Azalia's Graduation 2016

20160510