My Flower Girl

There goes his life

The night before my departure was bittersweet. I sat in our living room, surrounded by my family – the people who meant the world to me. Mom, Dad, and my younger sister, Riya, sat close by, their expressions a mixture of pride, worry, and sadness. We had spent countless nights like this before, but tonight was different. This was goodbye.

Mom, ever the emotional one, broke the silence. "Beta, kya tumhe zaroor jaana hai? We can look for something here?" Her voice had a familiar softness, one that always made me feel like a child again.

I smiled, taking her hand gently. "Mom, mujhe yeh karna hai. Delhi mein aise mauke milenge jo yahan Mumbai mein nahi mil sakte. Aur yeh permanent nahi hai... mai wapas aaunga." My words were calm, but I could feel the weight of my own decision pressing against me.

Dad nodded, his voice soft but steady. "Hum samajhte hain, Aarav. We are proud of you, lekin dil thoda bhaari hai." He tried to smile, but I could see the emotion in his eyes. My father, the man who was always so composed, was struggling just as much as I was.

Riya, usually the loudest in the room, was uncharacteristically quiet. She finally spoke, her voice small, almost shaky. "Toh ab mujhe kaun pareshan karega? And whos gonna make me laugh?" She was trying to joke, but her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

I pulled her into a tight hug. "Don't worry, Riya. Main roz tumhe call karunga. Aur door se bhi tumhe pareshan karunga!" I said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. She laughed a little, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

Dad cleared his throat, trying to change the mood. "Jaane se pehle ek baat yaad rakhna—Mumbai tumhara ghar hamesha rahega. Koi bhi doori, humare rishte ko kam nahi karegi."

The atmosphere softened, and we spent the next few hours reminiscing about old times. Laughter and stories filled the air, but there was always that undercurrent of sadness, knowing that tonight was different.

Mom brought out my favorite dessert—gulab jamun—like she always did on special occasions. As I bit into the warm sweetness, I couldn’t help but think about how much I’d miss home. The comfort of it. The predictability.

"Mat bhoolna, beta. Delhi pahunchte hi humein call karna," Mom said as she hugged me tightly before I went to bed.

"Promise, Mom," I whispered back, feeling the lump in my throat growing heavier.

---

The next morning came too soon. I sat in my nearly empty apartment in Mumbai, the place that had been my home for as long as I could remember. I had grown up here, and now, it felt strange to leave it all behind.

I set up my camera on a tripod and took a deep breath. This vlog was going to be tough to film. I hit the record button and looked into the lens, feeling the weight of the moment.

"Hey guys," I began, my voice softer than usual. "So, today’s the day. I’m leaving Mumbai, my home for the past 25 years, to start a new adventure in Delhi."

I paused, glancing around at the empty walls of my apartment. "It’s hard, you know? This city has given me so much—friends, memories, my family. But sometimes, you have to step out of your comfort zone to grow."

I wiped away a tear that had crept up, laughing nervously. "Sorry guys, getting a little emotional here. But I know this is the right move. Delhi is calling, and I’m ready to answer. There’s so much to explore, and I can’t wait to share it all with you."

I finished recording and sighed. This wasn’t just another video—it was a way to say goodbye, to capture the emotions that words couldn’t fully express.

---

The ride to the airport was a blur. My mind raced, thinking about all the things I was leaving behind. At the airport, my family was waiting. We hugged for what felt like an eternity.

"Apna dhyaan rakhna," Dad said, patting my back. His voice wavered, and I could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Safe rehna, beta," Mom whispered, her arms wrapped around me tightly, as if she could hold on long enough to make me stay.

"Kya tum sach mein jaa rahe ho?" Riya asked softly, trying to hide her tears. "Tum wapas aaoge, na?"

I pulled her into one last hug. "Haan, Riya. Tumhare bina mera dil Mumbai mein hi rahega. Main jaldi wapas aaunga."

I waved one last time as I walked through the gate, my heart aching but also excited for what lay ahead.

---

The flight to Delhi was filled with a mix of emotions—nervousness, excitement, and a deep sense of nostalgia. As the plane descended over the city, the sparkling lights of Delhi came into view, tiny dots on the sprawling landscape below. I felt a surge of excitement. This was it. A new beginning.

At the airport, the familiar hustle of Delhi’s energy hit me immediately—the loud voices, the smell of food, the chaos that felt oddly comforting. I grabbed my bags and stepped outside.

"Kaha jayenge?" the cab driver asked, leaning out of his window.

"Connaught Place," I said, my voice steady but my stomach fluttering with anticipation.

The cab ride to Connaught Place was filled with new sights and sounds. I watched as we passed by monuments, markets, and streets buzzing with life. The sheer energy of Delhi was electric.

"Aap yahan naye ho?" the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

"Haan, abhi shift ho raha hoon," I replied, my anxiety creeping back in. The city felt so different from Mumbai—more chaotic, more alive in a different way.

"Welcome to Delhi," he said with a smile. I smiled back, grateful for the warmth.

---

When I arrived at the guesthouse, I dropped my bags on the floor and sat on the bed. The room was simple but cozy—exactly what I needed for now. My phone buzzed with notifications—messages from family, friends, and my followers.

"Kick Delhi's butt!" – Saurabh

"Stay safe, bhai" – Riya

"Love you, beta" – Mom

I stared at the screen, tears welling up again. This was going to be harder than I thought.

That night, I explored Connaught Place, letting the vibrant atmosphere sink in. Street vendors, food stalls, people rushing in every direction. The city was alive, and I was part of it now.

I took out my camera and started recording, capturing the street lights, the laughter, the chaos. My subscribers were going to love this.

Later, as I sat on the rooftop of the guesthouse, looking out at the skyline, I whispered to myself, "This city is alive. Tomorrow, I’ll start uncovering its secrets."

And with that, I felt a small flicker of excitement. This was just the beginning.