Away from Home

Gazing out of the window of my bedroom I see an endless snake, illuminated with red and yellow lights waiting at the traffic signal. The light turns green. The snake starts crawling and while doing so the order is not disturbed. With my eyes fixed at the traffic light I travel through time and space only to find myself gazing at the traffic policeman, trying in vain to control the traffic that is zooming past him, not just from the four directions but at every possible angle. He finally manages to control it but the horns start blaring and the whole place is filled with commotion. We finally get a chance to come out of the jam and head to our rendezvous point. The names are of no consequence.

We are C1, C2, C3 and S. A and Z are yet to arrive. We take a seat on the first floor of this coffee house. The sign “Place under surveillance” grabs our attention and it follows a narration of a series of incidents that led to such a sign being put up there, followed by a lot more that has gripped our society. We laugh at old jokes; make new ones, S being the centre of our laughter frenzy. I sometimes think that we (C1, C2 and C3) are being unfair by dragging him into every joke. But then, we don’t even spare each other.

Z arrives followed by A, who doesn’t stay for long. We chat for a while, about the first get-together, the evening teas, the late dinners, mid night ice-creams, early morning movies and a lot more. I realized that this is probably the last time all of us are together. I looked at C1 and then C3 and their thoughts were no different than mine. Somebody cracked a joke and we all laughed. Sadness got lost in the laughter. I felt a little relieved.

Now we are heading home, listening to one of our favorite tracks and the ringing doorbell brings me back to present. It’s my apartment mate. “Dinner time”, he says. We go to the SUBWAY that is in the ground floor of the building we are staying in. Its 9 in the evening and the air is still burning hot. We rush inside and the cool air hit us on the face. For a moment it felt like I had opened the window of my room, back home, on a fine spring morning. Thoughts started flooding in again. My friend, D, has already arrived and we are running late for the early morning class. I grabbed my bag and rushed down the stairs. “I am leaving mom”, I shouted.

It has been a month since I have left. And I hope to return soon.

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~ by candidmusing on August 20, 2008.

One Response to “Away from Home”

  1. Of nostalgia and everything else

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