I could escape this. Yes, I could’ve escaped this. I should be tensed.
Actually, I am tensed.
Tensed -because I might have to leave. That this; would be over too soon. I love this part of my life. I feel guilty about this, but no, I am NOT homesick. Like all others here are. I don’t go over to the warden thrice a day to ask whether my parents called. Nor do I reply to their letters. I am happy here, happy to be away from home.
It is my third week here in my hostel. I never really wanted to study science, but when my parents decided that I should be studying it; I had no option but to agree. For in our country, it is difficult to make parents understand what you intend to do for a living if you aren’t planning on to become either a doctor or an engineer. So even when I reverently wanted to study arts, I opted for science, and I had grades good enough to be in one of the top schools in the country; preparing for the ultimate battle for IIT.
The boarding lodge is boring enough. School is yet to start and the loneliness gets on my nerves at times. Everyone here is new to the city; pathetically homesick. Half of their days are spent it weeping and sometimes silent tears find their outlet in uncontrollable sobs, especially when their parents call. God, I should have been crying too. It is not that I hate my family; in fact, I love them like anybody else here. Why shouldn’t I? They are nice and love me like anything; and in fact my kid sister means the world to me. I am their prize kid. Yes, they love me, of course they do.
Or mom wouldn’t have brought me to this costly place to study. I know, dad is busy with his job, and the fact that he took a glance at my board results and handed me over that thousand rupee note with a smile is more than enough to prove that he actually loved me. I never spent that note; it is pasted in my scrapbook. That smile meant more to me than any amount of money in the world.
But then, why don’t I miss them? Why the hell I find this seven by nine bed much more welcoming than my own home? I am a caged bird trapped within four walls here; but still, I don’t know why I feel the freshness of freedom in this bondage.
12th of June. The day of school admissions. Gates of the school thronged with tens of thousands of students and their over enthusiastic parents, swarming like a sea of human heads. Suddenly, for a second, I felt a shadow of doubt creeping over. Suddenly, I felt that I wouldn’t be able to make it. It is a tough life. For once, I feel that this is my last opportunity to escape; to turn back. But I, walk in, all alone.
Five minutes in the queue, a worried dad comes over to me. He has this cheap phone in his hand, not like the blackberry my dad carries to his office; but nevertheless I look at what he is showing to me. It is the picture of his daughter, who has apparently got lost in this crowd. I nod carelessly, indulged in my own thoughts. Seeing his frantic desperation for a daughter lost in a periphery of hundred yards suddenly made me feel so small.
I felt a grudge building up against that girl in the picture; and I secretly wish that I grab a seat before her. Fifteen more minutes later, I let myself feel shitty, for caring about some stupid stranger who couldn’t manage to remain composed at sixteen, and gets lost like five year olds. Hell, she doesn’t deserve my attention; I murmur to myself and walk over to the interview room.
‘Board topper?’ the guy at the desk asks. I say a guy, because he is not more than 19; apparently some senior school student. I decided to give them a smile and get myself seated.
About fifty questions later, and twenty minutes of endless conversation, they ask me the most dreaded question.
‘So why aren’t your parents here?’ the HOD biology asks. I know that from his designation slip pasted on his table; and suddenly all my confidence vanishes.
‘So why aren’t your parents here?’
I don’t have an answer to this question. I never had. And I don’t know if I ever will. Each time I am asked that, and it is quite often, I never seem to have an answer. Ever since I was a primary kid, I never had my parents coming over for anything; and I trust the reasons were genuine. But, these people, I guess, won’t understand.
‘They are busy sir. I am capable of managing the formalities myself, thank you.’ I finally manage to murmur; as I walk out of the room. Hours later, the issue the finalised list of would be candidates; and my name figures on second in the list.
I meet that dad again, leafing sadly through his daughters credentials. She hadn’t been able to make it. I had won; all by myself. But still, I feel small before her. Before a girl I have defeated. For she has a hand holding her . Her dad.
Tears well up in my eyes and I wipe them aside as I walk back to my room. Sometimes, it is better to be alone, I guess. I put up a smile lest anybody asks me a question. I am NOT homesick guys; remember that ?
