The City Boy’s shame

Stop reading if you are in no mood to read a nostalgic and teary eyed recital. Escape.

This blog has so many emo references that sometimes I’m forced to think if my life is  so depressing in the first place. On a daily basis, I find myself in situations where there seems to be no room for sorrow. I fool around, crack witty remarks and in general survive without wondering much about consequences. It almost seems like I shield myself from a certain “serious” part of life that remains hidden behind layers of fake laughter. But once in a while,something breaks through that barrier and I’m forced to face life. Life which is unbelievably diabolic and seems to love smirking at my stupidity. Today was such a day.

I grew up in Delhi but like a few might know,my parents are originally from Kerala from where they shifted to seek a better life and fortunes. So I was raised like any normal kid in the North with more of an affinity towards rajma-chawal than idli-sambar. But my parents tried desperately to make sure that I never forgot my roots. They faced heavy resistance from me and my elder siblings as we just couldn’t identify with that. Yet, they tried small things like making us watch Malayalam movies and eating Southern delicacies once in a while. This gave us a faint taste of our origins but never the full package. That would happen during the month long family trips to Kerala. Our relatives would think we were uptight city kids who refused to communicate. They,however, soon realized that language was the actual barrier. I remember talking to my cousins as a kid using hand symbols/actions. Those days are blurred but what I remember vividly is my last trip to Kerala.

This July, a month before I sailed away to Purdue, my parents wanted me to go back one last time. I remember protesting like a Libyan rebel about how dumb the whole idea was. The fact that my own eldest sister was settled there didn’t seem to be part of the criteria. Guess the city wind does that to you. Anyways, my parents prevailed and we flew straight to the land where my blood relatives dwell. It was funny as at that point I hadn’t considered the fact that I wouldn’t be meeting them for like another 4-5 years. And these were people who actually cared about me. I remember counting the days like I was completing a jail sentence. I couldn’t wait to leave. There are 2 incidents I will never forget during this journey.

The first was we finally went to the place where my dad grew as a kid. It was up a hill and as he recounted tales of how he walked around 5 miles to go to school, something weird happened. All of a sudden, I just didn’t wanna leave. The hills, the wind and the calm I felt were new experiences. It was peace like I had never felt before. I met relatives I had just heard of before. This was of course not told to anyone because..er…I’m dumb.

The second memory is one that I will never forget and is responsible for my sudden emo outburst today. I remember travelling to my Dad’s younger sister’s place just two days before we left. I was personally not about to go as well because I just didn’t feel like. But I was dragged along with my parents . My aunt Mary, was suffering from cancer at that point and everything was apparently in control. I grumbled along the way over how awful the weather was, how the traffic got to me and even how weird the surrounding area smelled! I guess seeing her stopped my moaning. The trip in itself was irrelevant. We all just had lunch together and then she wished me luck. She was once known for her sarcasm and light-hearted outlook towards life. She had lost her strength now but she did manage to punk me once in a while. Anyways, she blessed me and told me that I would do great in life. I smiled as convincingly as I could and walked away.

4 hours ago she died of cancer. And I feel pathetic. Pathetic because of my attitude towards where I truly belong. And also because I was helpless.  I talked to my cousin who showed remarkable maturity in the situation. He told me he was happy the pain was over. He said he knew she was happy now. I cut the phone and walked back to my room.

Then nothing. Love hurts.