The Misadventures of Naina Dholakia

Settle in, breathe out

It's thumping. 

My heart hangs in my cold and damp body as I watch my sister unpack the last of my boxes. Their momentum has fallen and I think are feeling the same heart-churning-mind-numbing-stomach-burning feelings as I am. Maybe the stomach part's just me.

The thought of my sister and my mom leaving and going back home without me makes me feel empty and echoey in my head and heart. I knew I was going to live on my own since the day I signed my apartment contract three months ago so why this sinking feeling now? Are the repercussions of my decision just settling in?

I might sound dramatic but for someone who has spent all her younger life binging questionable Indian soaps on the living room tv with her grandparents, gossiping about everyone alive with her sister, running around the house, and entertaining her parents till their laughs hurt their stomachs, leaving all that behind and living with three strangers who speak different languages is bound to be a gut-wrenching feeling. 

"I think we're done." My sister says dejectedly for someone who couldn't wait to "get this over with" before coming here. She's gonna miss me. And I totally get why.

No, not just because I'm a wonderful and colorful presence to have around. But also because she knows that the moment she's left alone with my dad, he's gonna start talking about her marriage. My dad doesn't talk about it in front of me because he believes I'm too innocent to understand the worldly pleasures (or displeasures) of love, dating, relationships, and marriages. If only he knew...

"Nainu, remember what I told you: study hard and call me every day. I may not always pick up, but I want to know you're alive and well. Don't forget to finish the fruits in your refrigerator by this week." My mom showers her love language of "eat well, study well" once again and god am I going to miss hearing this every week. Before I could start crying, my sister's already wrapping her arms around me and bawling like the day when I once put glue in her hair. In my defense, I was an experimental child.

Waterfalls, oceans, rivers, and every water body known to man seems to overflow from my eyes as my tears soak my mom's shirt next with how much I'm crying this evening. You're 19, for god's sake! Stop crying like a baby. My subconscious chastises me throughout this episode but she's gonna have to shut up for a while. Everything's changing, and I don't know if it will be for the better.

I weakly grab three tissues from my desk and hand two of them to my equally teary-eyed sister and mother, and we wipe our tears off, or at least try to. I don't even have the heart to go downstairs again to see them off. I think they sense this and start to make their way to my bedroom door. I wish I could cry in his arms right now...

With a face redder than a ripe roma tomato, I wave goodbye to them because if I open my mouth to even try and utter the word "bye" right now, I will have to sleep in a flood of my own tears tonight. They reach the elevator and wave one final goodbye to me. In 45 minutes, they'll be home. And everyone will get on with their lives. Something tells me I'd have to do the same sooner, rather than later.