There's a homecoming (not necessarily of Beorhtnoth) for me every working day. Kicking open the door that insists on getting stuck. Fumbling (and cursing on autopilot) for the lights. I can almost feel the nothingness sucking out the Me from within me - the unwelcoming mustiness of empty rooms. Litany of gobbling, unpacking and searching for the right questions to the wrong answers. And the thronging ghosts of neverending phone-calls.
A month left, yet Gariahat is chock-full of the Puja multitude. Lights flashing by, then slowing inevitably at the ever-present signals. I'm thinking of the zillion other drives back home. Speeding down the Bypass. A time of innocence when 'forever' meant a month and 'never' - two. Looking back through a glass darkly. Cannot help but smirk at myself - it really takes time for the absolutes used so flippantly throughout life to regain their true proportions. Many homecomings later.
That's life, Life and college. On Sundays too, for pity's sake!
Over to memory lane again. Visited the alma mater on Wednesday. Now that was a Homecoming. The teachers ("How are you? You never mail Ooruni. My add is ranbhatt. Y'know, I ran and then..." "Ma'am, then you bhatted?" I ask helpfully) and the old buddies. It was gratifying in a small, vain little way.
Time to get off the bus. UC is using her eye-liner - some nice guy at her computer course. GK is terrifying as usual. Alim sniggers: there's little he and S don't do in the back seats. Someone asks something inane and I counter with a dreadful banality.
Life's like elastic really. Only the homecomings jar me out of the muddy rut. And know that there is a highway for me to reach.