Leaving Bombay

Wah Wah Rona dhona

Last year, when I left Bombay, my parents dropped me off at the airport. (Well, they always drop me to the airport.)

As soon as I got there, I saw the check-in queue and started crying.

Sure, the queue was long, but not long enough to make me cry. My parents had already left, and I was relieved not to be bawling in front of them. The humiliation. The humiliation.

I’ve never done this before, crying at an airport. It freaked me out.

Initially I tried crying discreetly, but that’s the worst thing you can do. There is no way to cry discreetly, you just start making weird scrunchy faces. Everyone starts looking to see why you’re acting strange.

It’s better to give up and just cry quietly. Then no one tried looking. No one wants to look at someone crying.

Not only did I cry, but I didn’t stop crying right through check-in, walking through security, immigration, waiting in the duty-free and even on the flight.Β (Immigration didn’t seem remotely suspicious of my sniveling. Maybe it looked good that I didn’t want to go abroad.)

At first the ex tried to be comforting and was giving me the ‘there-there-pat-pats’, then after a bit tried the ‘come-on-now-stop-this’ and then the ‘everyone-is-looking-hiss’ and finally a few hours in just gave up and ignored me.

Half-way through the flight I ran out of steam (thank god), when we landed I was reasonably cheerful.Β By the time we got back to the flat I was in a great mood.

(No,Β it wasn’t PMS, which always gets the blame for any display of emotions. An emotion is no less real just because you happen to have a uterus.)

Well, anyway there were no such dramatics this time out. It was all very sedate. I was at the airport 3 hours early because my mother gets very twitchy out about flights (she used to be an air-hostess). She won’t stop nagging from the moment you get up until you’re in the car. Just to get some peace and quiet you do what she says. It’s a good tactic.

So I spent Rs.1000 on a 30 min back and neck massage. Yup.

I felt very slick doing that, like a professional traveller instead of a sniveling idiot.

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8 thoughts on “Leaving Bombay

  1. I totally symapthise, I’d cry every time the luggage went in the car in my expat days, it’s too painful leaving a) your parents and more importantly b) the vast tropical garden, swimming pool, air-conditioning, driver, sunshine etc, just to return to a grey, drizzling ice cube of a country populated by people who think ‘abroad’ is Skegness. Sigh….. How thrilled am I to be a resident here and no longer have to suffer airport tearfulness. Erm…

  2. I too often very get emotional at the airport. I practically balled my eyes out after my anal-cavity search at heathrow.

  3. on the hole not so much. although the second time around it was a far more gentle and caressing experience, but that wasnt at heathrow.

  4. I cried with joy when I left Mumbai last year πŸ˜€
    I cried with disgust right after one week of landing in UK..what a daft country 😐

    Now I cry to go to India every second 😦

    Rote kaiko hum ? Sad hote kaiko hum ? Raaton ko na sote kaiko hum ? πŸ˜›

    Ps: I am going back to India in may for a 4 month vacation, at heathrow there ll be tears of celebration too πŸ˜›

    PSS: Brilliant post :d

  5. “An emotion is no less real just because you happen to have a uterus”
    Wah beta, what an awesome statement. I feel like wearing it on a tshirt. I will put it on my Facebook favourite quotes page and I will credit it to “that girl from Tin Roof Press”.

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