udhero na

People always say that packing is the hardest thing to do, but I digress; those people probably didn't follow up all that packing with all the unpacking that follows.

When you're unpacking, you're not just putting away clothes and accessories...you're taking out emotions and memories out of suitcases and carry-ons and handbags and wallets.... and then packing them back neatly into drawers, closets..little jewellery boxes..in between fingers.
It's the hardest thing to do.

It's knowing that the adventure is over, the memories you made have already reached their upper constant, that no more new memories will be added to the experiences you've just had.
It's knowing that while you have returned to the mundane...the banal, the boring, in the parallel universe you left behind, there is another You who could still be having fun, (and probably still is, unawares to you) lazing around summer days in the back patio over conversation, shisha and Jones.
It's heartbreaking really.
It's the reason why my suitcases are still packed, three days later, after having returned from Canada.
Yesterday I very feebly unpacked my toiletries case. The resulting emotional overwhelming-ness had me withdrawn and quiet the rest of the evening.
Sigh. Pity.
This isn't quite normal, and it isn't quite me. I feel though that what they say about marriage is quite true; there are many many things you learn simply after being married. Like the value and comfort of family and your own blood, no matter how dysfunctional they are. There's always an empty socket in that narrative you can just go and snuggle right back into...it's not a space you have to create, it's just always there. Coming out of that socket hole obviously results in much cramping, of both muscles and heart; ripped out of their fixations in their places of familiarity.
Kher.
This is the reason why I don't want to unpack. The brooding and the self analysis and wallowing in the memories and the humdrum of busy Toronto life and mental images of baba laughing and ammi singing and deeju giggling and nijjo puffing out shisha smoke in rings rings rings comes outpouring out of every shirt, pants, heart.... everything I own.
Mein phir se thap ho ker baith jatee hoon.

Soooo, in conclusion,
I'll just resort to watching the twentieth rerun of Transformers 2 on TV; an important task in itself I assure you.
Really.
Much more important than other things in life....
(like say, clearing the mess of suitcases that is the guest room right now).
Dont ask dont tell.

ankhon mein silay huey ho.....udhero na.

-eeda