As the silhouette of Appa fades away, I ponder, will he be waiting for me in heaven?
It’s a fine evening at Trichy’s Central Railway Station, it is the type of winter climate where in you feel Lil chills but don’t put on thermals :P. I am here, standing on the railing of Madurai Express, towards Aamchi Mumbai.
My heart beats slow, as if even he yearns for the company of Appa, and already feels his absence somehow.
My breathing is shallow as my hand waves goodbye to him.
The Setting Sun is spewing the last of its melancholic light rays on the ever-ready Indian Railways train, the ever-tired platform and on us.
This time I will be gone for a long time, away from home, away from the place where you can feel the warmth of the womb, where you can be yourself in toto and you don’t have to wear any mask, play any role, just you and your crazy, hatke, loved ones.
As the train glides slowly, as if she understands goodbyes and purposefully gives us that extra time to part with our dear ones; his black outline starts to disappear, the platforms slip from the vision into pieces of the rectangular garden then just tracks, empty tracks, and I can’t help thinking, what if this is the last day, I am seeing him.
Metaphorically, speaking, in this train journey of life, there are stops, at which, unknowingly or knowingly, whether we like it or not, we have to bid adieu to people we care for. Though we all know this fact, we hardly give it a thought, and rarely accept it.
Do you know what the scariest part is, we shall never know when it is!
So the only power that rests with us, is to get our farewells right.
Leave things on a good note.
Complete that closure.
Say those words.
Hug them tight.
Express your love. Give that extra care. Share that warmth.
On another note, (for all the Harry Potter lovers out there), don’t you think our parents are going to be the first ones to receive us on that cold, white, heavenly platform, with arms wide open waiting to give us that big tight hug?
the one who feels.