So I'm Back

At least in person. As my uncle said it: the body left, but the heart stayed.

I'll say it now, I'm so homesick, it's like there's this empty crater inside of me. I know this is going to sound so teenage angsty, but I can't help it. I miss my family like crazy. I keep tearing up just at the thought of the goodbye. There's so much to say about all the things we did, but I'll start crying again, and there's literally no one here who's going to hug me and tell me it'll be okay. But I guess I can tell you guys about how the goodbye went. 

Basically, our flight was at something like 7 in the morning. We had to leave the village at 1 in the morning. That day (or the day before?), my cousin had his wedding. I love how in order to get to the wedding hall, the village hires a bus. Anywho, because my mother's side of the family were invited, at least the parents, they came to the wedding, and after the wedding, we came home with all of them. We hung out; talking, eating, teasing, going back and forth between the houses. (basically, our house is next to my uncle's, and his house is next to my aunty's, and it's not like... next to as in neighbour with a fence inbetween. It's literally next to. We share the same yard), shared holding the babies, went up to play cricket ('up' as in we live on a mountain, so at the back of our house, there are stairs that go up to my grandma's sister's house), talked some more, took photos, stuff like that. Eventually, our mother's side left very late. 

Our father's side, as in our village people, the cousins that we hung around, they all stayed at our three houses. We had vowed not to sleep 'til we had to go. So my sisters and I, my Amna myni*, Nusha, Nasra, Nakeeb, Nasma, Nafla, Ammaar, Afra, Hudha and Hima, we all sat up on the balcony on a mat. My sister played music on her laptop, and we played Truth or Dare and danced. The village was all dark and silent, but there was just something so warm about being there, all squashed together, making fun of each other. At one, promptly, my father called us in to get ready. 

I thought I could make it without crying, but when my Sachi* started, I was a goner. My aunties, my cousins, my precious Amna myni. Everyone was up, ready to send us off. Gosh, the hugs was brutal. I cried so much, I think I soaked my Sachi's shawl. They all cried, it just broke my heart. My Ammaar... oh, he was so sweet. He kept complaining because he wanted to cry but the tears weren't coming. Even before that, while we were getting ready, the youngsters were writing little notes for us on our laptops. I would LOVE to tell you guys what my Ammaar said (he's 10, on a side note), but he made me promise not to tell absolutely anyone, and because I hadn't read it yet, I said okay.

When we got into the van, I thought I could calm down, but you know it's impossible to calm down and stop the tears when it's one in the morning and all your aunties and uncles, your cousins, everyone, they're lined up in front of the three houses, waving, calling out, blowing kisses and crying.  There's just so much love in that family, my family, these next two years are going to be awful and lonely without them.

I don't think you'd understand. Here, in Australia, we have literally no family, except one pair of second cousins, but even they're not close. When I come back from Lanka, I always notice the isolation we're in. My parents can't randomly drop us off somewhere in case of emergency, because there's always a fear that whoever it is might feel used or something. No one here really understands my mindset, or the structure of my family. If I complain about my parents here, most people are horrified at what they seem to do. Over there, they help me to understand them.  Only over there, I think, I can really be true self. I can really pour my heart and soul out.

How I'll miss them all. How I'll miss staying up with Amna myni til 4am. How I'll miss the way Ammaar gets so furious and then comes running back later, begging for forgiveness. How I'll miss playing cricket up in front of Sachi Ma's house. How I'll miss holding my Aqi-boy and running when I see his parents. How I'll miss playing with my baby squirrel in Umma's house (okay, it was 1/3 mine). How I'll miss all the teasing about prospective husbands and wives. How I'll miss the force feeding from my aunties. How I'll miss walking across town to my grandma's, or back to my aunt's. How I'll miss watching the movies together, eating together, sharing clothes, sleeping together, and causing all sorts of mischief together. How I'll miss listening to the not so innocent stories of our seemingly good parents, aunties and uncles. How I'll miss dancing on the roof at night. How I'll miss just having everyone there.

Eventually, all the epic things that we did there will be told. Now I'll just tell you my new future plans, that I pray will work out, insha'allah. 

I plan to really, truly concentrate on my studies, and hopefully ace my final year. I'll go back to Lanka then, stay for that 2 1/2 month holiday. Did I ever mention I wanted to go to Brazil for the next FIFA? I've decided instead of that, I'll go for my Lanka holiday, and Dubai, so I can see my Amna myni. She's married see, and after her wedding in August, her hubby's going to take her to Dubai.... far.... far... away, most likely permanently, if not for many years. I want to stay with her for some time. I may come back here, Australia, to study my midwifery course, but I'll agree to letting my cousins and aunties find me a hubby. I used to have minimal expectations in a husband, basically: religious, taller than me, not overweight, and a friendly personality. Now I've added that we should either be able to live permanently in Lanka or come every year, and I need holidays in Dubai. Also, my hubby has to give me the option of being a stay home mother. I already wanted that, but now it's been enforced more than ever. I have observed my aunties and married female cousins, and their relationships with their kids, and I hope to have that kind of relationship.

I suppose that's it? I'll show you photos too. Of course, not all of my dear cousins and such, as we're covered girls, blah blah blah. But hey, I'll show you my baby squirrel for now.

ATM:

Writing: Nada.
Reading: Frankenstein. Mary Shelley. It's for school, although I've always meant to read it. So far, so good.

Listening to: Teri Meri. From... the Bodyguard movie? Hindi song. I love the voices, and the song has memories. But... I dislike the actors who appear in the movie, and the original video is probably inappropriate, so I'll show you a piano version.

Feeling: Homesick.

Peace in,

Laila
** in our culture, we have various 'titles' for relatives. 'Sachi', for one, is my father's brother's wife (his brother being my 'sacha'). Likewise, 'myni' is my father's sister's daughter, her son would be my 'machan'. There's so many, so I won't explain them all, but that's just a heads up for you.