The Return - Chapter 1: The Journey Back

It was 10 pm. The tapping of my feet did no justice to the emptiness I felt in my gut. I looked around and met the eyes of everyone on DL-114.
"Happy to be back home after a decade."
"Why in the name of god is it so hot in Mumbai?"
"I hope the gifts are enough for every relative in the city"
Every face had a different story to tell. Yet every time I looked into someone's eyes, I felt an inconspicuous accusation.
"Ungrateful son returns. Where were you when Nana needed you the most?"

I had hardly slept through the 16 hour ordeal. It was as if I was reliving a groundhog minute but couldn't rewrite the outcome.

It was end of the quarter and I was stuck in day long meetings. All I could do was click reject and switch off my phone. A decision I am sure I would live to regret every nanosecond after it. I kept justifying my actions but just could'nt forgive myself.

The baggage carousel kicked me out of my trance. I rushed forward effortlessly pushing a couple of people aside. I still had my local train skills after a decade. As I waited for my ubiquitous black bag, my mind wavered back to its guilt trip.

Nana had not called me since I moved to Chicago, unless it was my birthday or a festival. I wanted to kick myself a million times for not having the sense to talk to him every week if not everyday. I wish I had talked to him about my job, my life, about how much I missed the by-lanes of Pune or just about nothing.

"Excuse me. Beta, could you get that blue box for me", a man with stark resemblance to Nana motioned towards an upcoming bundle of luggage. For a moment, I felt Nana had played a trick on me like when he made me pick up groceries at the Bazaar. My hands subconsciously lifted the box and handed it over.

"Thank you Beta", a hand rubbed my back. The touch reminded me of the countless nights Nana used to run his palms on my forehead. It was the only time he let his guard down and let me know that he loved me. Even though, it was when I was sleeping or as I pretended to sleep. In the morning, he would morph back into his usual army demeanor. We had never allowed ourselves the privilege to be emotionally vulnerable after Amma left us. She was the bridge that connected our lives. With her demise, we had as if lost a translator in a cross linguistic meeting. Twenty Nine years of my being and all I had left to reminisce about was the touch of his rugged workman palms.

I surreptitiously wore my oakleys to cover my pre-watery eyes. A few local eyes accused me of being the arrogant NRI, who I used to despise not so long ago.

I changed my watch to reflect the local time. It was an hour since I landed as I pushed my cart through the arrival gate.
"Sandeep Malvankar, Pune", said a sign. A young kid of no more than 19 carried the sign.

"That is me", I said. He nonchalantly picked up my bag and led me to an old fiat. 5 yrs after my last visit, every car looked a mini version of a mini cooper. For a brief minute, a vivid picture of our old green fiat came to my mind. I caught myself chuckle at the time Nana spanked me when I banged it into a tree.

"All you care about is your bloody car!", I said.

"How could I be so inconsiderate? I knew he cared more about my safety and still I had to say that.", I mumbled as the boy turned his head to look at me.

"Saab my name is Hari. Malvankar saahib's house is next to my tea stall.", he said as I nodded.