LEAVING ON A JET PLANE

Ok, fine it should be plane. Nah, it doesn't have the ring of a jet plane. The kids like it that way. "We're leaving on a jet plane, yeah."

Heading home is always about dealing with your emotions. And for that we couldn't have picked an airline better than Sahara, emotionally yours. It's already knotting me up.

It's been close to two long years since I visited India last. I often wish things could be different. That Naniji could be her usual nagging self, force feeding us, reminding us not to walk on her grass, to water her plants gently and not to do too much khee, khee, hah, hah.

After a nasty fall, she's been bed ridden. An operation on her hip has been ruled out as being too risky. She won't even know me, I'm sure. She'll hardly feel the joy, sound and laughter of her grand children - the one thing she wanted so badly at one time.

It's hard to see her like that. She, who built her life from scratch in India. She, who took that train from Pakistan. She, who lost her Dad, then her husband when everything seemed to be going right, then her eldest daughter (my mother). She, who stood there like a pillar, holding the family, their home and their land together.

Could you blame her for her demons, for her constant bickering to be careful, her reminders of the big bad world, her general sense of fear, of losing it all?

What are her thoughts now? I can't read them any more, all I can do is try.....

I will not be blogging or looking at my emails. It's a break to bond with my family starting with my Nani, my Masi - who has been painstakingly taking care of her, my Dad and my sis.

Speak to you all early July.