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Homecoming

It was a lousy April afternoon, the air back home must have carried the rhythm of dhul and pepa signalling the onset of bihu. He was far away from home but could his heart free itself from memories, bihu was not just a festival, it was an emotion.

Flashbacks of home and his childhood came roaring as he cleared his way through a crowd which made him feel even lonelier, it was on such days out of all days when he felt the urge to run back home. The adult in him wanted to have a carefree life like that of a teenager back home.

He missed his old dhul, it must have wearied away but the old photo album carried a memory of him hugging his dhul while he innocently flashed a smile showing his gap toothed cuteness. How he wished to bring those days back alive!

The thatched kitchen gave away the rich smell of caramelised  jaggery and he would be awe stricken to see mounds of tiny perfectly rounded coconut balls dipped in a pool of jaggery which boasted of his mother's skilled ways. By that hearth, he had once sat dreaming of distant lands and it had felt wonderful but little did he knew back then, that a full furnished ultramodern apartment could never replace the warmth of what he had long left, his home.

The frail sun rays clinging by his window panes reminded him of the days spent at paddy fields where he spent his vacations helping his father with his crops. He longed for those days where he could go fishing in the village pond and take home those prized possessions. When was the last time had he done anything that made him feel happy? He stood reflecting. He had carved a better life for himself with a posh lifestyle and a well paying corporate job but deep within he knew he was getting tired. He had faked long enough to the world but how long could he deceive himself. He had started realising what it meant to be happy, how money possibly couldn't be the only solution to every problem.

He let a sigh travel far across the city blues, he longed to be back home but something in him had long snapped when he had selfishly chose himself over his ailing parents. He longed for a warm home coming. As he sipped his tea, he for the first time in many years hummed his favourite bihu song, he felt something heavy crack within making its way to meet his old self.

As he booked his tickets to be home, he felt butterflies in his tummy. Was he still a teenager struggling under the garb of an adult, he sat reflecting!

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