A 'Holiday' at Home

It had been a month since I had left home for college, but barely ten days since I had come to terms with things, when I found myself at a very unusual, yet special milestone. That's right, it was time for me to go home, for a 'holiday'. Yes, having been at home my entire life and having travelled to a lot of places for vacation, but I couldn't have ever imagined my own house as a holiday destination. But, oh well, that's life, I guess, and that's just how it is after moving to a hostel.
     As luck would have it, the overnight bus ride from Chennai to Bangalore would see me being accompanied by my dad, hence making things slightly more familiar. After catching some sleep on the ride, I woke up, and I looked out the window. I saw Electronic City and the long flyover on Hosur Road, and it kicked in. I was in Bangalore City once again. The combination of excitement, relief and nostalgia showed in the form of genuine content at returning home, even for a holiday, if I might add.
    Soon after, I finally reached my hotel ( Home Sweet Home!) and checked in to my hotel room (my new bedroom at home) for three days and two nights. Yes, the room felt like a hotel room for real, for my bedroom is now the property of my brother. But the best part of all, after one long month in the hostel, was the daily breakfast, lunch and dinner buffet set up by none other than my own mother (The kitchen), commonly referred to by most of my college friends as 'Ghar ka Khana'. My brother's hotel was one floor below mine, enabling to catch up with him after such a long time with relative ease. He is someone I ought to have given a lot more credit than I have, for how amazing he is and how good he is to me. Nearby in the same resort were some of my old friends, and I was very lucky to catch up with them. They, along with their families, seemed really happy to see me, or at least I'd like to believe so. There was that tiny place where I played cricket, and it was still there waiting for me to come with my bat and take guard. Of course, this 'holiday' would not have been complete without at least one trip to Corner House, where I was always up for getting my share of 'Death By Chocolate' that always left me wanting more.
      Well, apart from doing many things and catching up with a lot of people, the part I enjoyed most about going home was sitting poolside with my mom, and having those long conversations that only my mom and I both could have. There were also those familiar chats with dad, about my course and my new life and motivation to focus on the bigger goal in the wake of everything else that I would face along the way. Playing with my brother, and talking about those things that stay just between us, and then choke-slamming each other for fun, all had a part to play as well. I guess just living life the way I used to, doing those little things that saw to it that on the final afternoon, before I had to return, I really didn't want to. It also made me feel like I had never left in the first place.
      But on that afternoon, it was indeed time for me to check out of my 'hotel' and return 'home'. That's right, I had to leave my home and return to the hostel and college. It was hard. But I thought I had done a fairly decent job of handling it this time, which confirmed for me, as mentioned in my last post, that the umbilical cord was finally cut.
     That was how my first college holiday ended. For the very first time, a holiday did not end at home. It was different, but that is how it would be in the years to come, as I would soon find out.

Cutting the umbilical cord!

I had paid my first visit to a doctor since I joined college. I was having some difficulty breathing, and I wanted to figure out why. When the doctor suspected high levels of stress, he asked if I was away from home for the first time, to which I responded with the affirmative. He then told me something that left me thinking even till today. He said, "Looks like umbilical cord still hasn't been cut in your case."
    I had my cousin with me for company in that hospital as we collapsed laughing. However, it was all, in that moment alone. I later realized he was making a very valid point. I have a relationship with my parents that I honestly consider myself very lucky for. I had a brother who made me laugh and drove me insane in equal measure, but he was also one I wouldn't have any other way. It had taken a different turn once I had left the house, and I was still living in the fear of that sudden change. When life changes, and turns into it a whole new world that's entirely different from what you knew, the mixture of confusion, fear, and excitement is the feeling that begins to dominate in your mind and your heart. Among all other things, I distinctly remember that feeling. It made me look forward to the next day on some occasions, but on most others, it left me in tears. I longed to wake up in the morning to my mom having a glass of coffee, my dad with his latest nursery rhyme composition that would take all of two minutes, and my brother who was ever ready to wrestle with me, all in readiness waiting for me. But instead, I was left with just me, dragging my own backside to the shower, to the mess, and then later on, to class as well. Yes, I had made new friends, but there was no way that was ever going to take the place of the people who I've loved to death since the days before I even knew the meaning of the words Mom, Dad or Brother.
    But gradually, in all of this, came what was both inevitable and necessary. The acceptance of the change. I had to come to terms with the fact that I had to do it all on my own, be it the washing, the working, or the socializing. And Operation Aerospace, at least according to me, was underway. I was functional at long last, even though I was still far from standard.
  As far as my parents and brother were concerned, they continued to be my best friends, but I began to feel like I could go back and tell that doctor that the umbilical cord was cut at last! Time would further confirm if I was right.