Time

This post originally appeared on medium.com/@kannarkk before I consolidated my writing here.

Let’s rewind precisely to the moment when you bid goodbye to everything you knew — the life you had, the people, the money, and everything else. That moment when you gave an extra long hug to your parents because who knows how long it will take for the next one. That moment when you got into the airport lounge with your luggage and looked at them through the crystal clear glass panes one last time. One more look, that’s it — you said as you moved forward to baggage drop-off area. And then the sea of people and the maze called airport hid them all, prescient to the next 469 days.

Let’s forward a little. That one moment as the plane readies for take off. That one huge moment where your body resists. You haven’t seen any force stronger than that. How can you leave everything behind? Get off the plane, you fool! And then there is take off! The inertia disappears. A new life beckons.

469 days — 1 years, 3 months, 13 days of being a graduate student. You cook almost everyday, wondering how your mother cooked three meals a day, how your lunch and dinner is the standard South Indian breakfast menu, how you survive days on saaru or avalakki. You make new friends, many of them just like you, leading the new life. You lead everyday one day at a time.

The era of working 8–5pm seems ages ago. Did it really happen? Was it a dream because all you can do now is catch a wink here and there? You take a deep breath every 11 weeks or so and then swim underwater all throughout, fighting great battles like none other — some personal, some academic, some being just the feeling of distance.

And finally here you are. How does 469 days feel both too long and a blink of an eye at the same time? What illusion is this? A little voice pops in, saying — does it matter? In 36 hours, you will be at the one true home. Nothing else matters more than the joy of hugging your parents again, feeling the warmth of love from your cousins and family, including gunDa, the almost human Labrador.

We have got it all wrong. All the phone calls put together cannot bring your family any closer. The distance still lingers, although for a few minutes, it seems to fade away. And then you feel time, how the clock doesn’t stop back home. They are all living their lives, going to work, and changing with time just like you are. Does that seem unfamiliar to you? Are you afraid to face the new stranger in your life called disconnect? While you may summarize all of the 469 days as a single moment when you were away, a myriad things were at play. Your parents have gotten older. Your cousin had a kid who can almost walk. Your other cousin got a new bike. Your other cousin got a new job. You have missed out the last hundred or so meetups. Don’t tell me there’s no disconnect. How you wish time had different definitions and these 469 days were just a moment back home!

But hey, it’s exciting, don’t you want to look curiously at the once familiar life and the new interplay? To see new dimensions, new relationships, new found respect for distance? In the next few moments, distance doesn’t matter. As the plane touches down on home ground, you are not nostalgic anymore, rather running heavy on emotions. The scent of the familiar air is back. As you inhale deeply, you sense the awakening of the forgotten, the past you left 469 days ago.

469. It’s not just a number. It’s a complex thing, almost a life of its own.