No, I don't want to fly!

“I don’t want to leave”, I tell myself. I tell that to my parents and my friends. In another day, I would be far away from the comforts of my home. I know that I have learnt to fly. But, I really don’t feel like flying.

Aw… My amma! I want to see her smiles and her never ending enthusiasm. I want to see her being 24*7 on-duty, the duty being looking after me; yet, never once complaining. I want to eat the food which she cooks by pouring tons and tons of love. I want to hear the sound of her sewing machine. I want her so close to me that I could hug her any time as I wish for.

Oh… My appa! I want to see him shuttling in and out of home, regularly checking if the clothes have dried. Or, writing in his diary. Else, reading ‘The Hindu’ or ‘Maathrubhoomi’. I want him to be around me checking how many blog visits are achieved or which book I am reading. I want him to be around murmuring each time when I say “I love Simbu” or “Wow… Ranbeer Kapoor is just too handsome”. I really want him around when I prepare for my exams, patiently staying awake till I go to bed.

What about my Siamese? I have never stayed away from my scooterette since the day it (she) was bought. Now, I may have to walk miles or travel in crowded buses or bargain endlessly with the auto-driver.

I can’t think of another place in this World where I could just be who I am. A place where everything that belongs to me is within my hand’s reach.

Starting from my coffee mug to the blanket, I am going to miss them all.

I may earn handsome, but, what is the point? I can’t stay with people or things which I really care for. I can’t go to the nearby golgappa or the sarbhath shop. I can’t go to the temple at our street and get transfixed by His charm. I can’t do any of these when my heart says. Instead, I can do these only when my brain says, “Crazy, its time to go home. It’s weekend!”