The moment I stepped out, the entire commotion of the airport made me smile like a Cheshire cat. I was delighted on landing onto the familiar territory.
Here, at this moment, I felt like I was the queen of my world. I looked at peoples' faces, and even though they were practically strangers, I felt connected to them in a way I never had felt with the people in France. It was an instant bond to the motherland I suppose. Or it was because everyone was talking in Hindi.
My ears, which were so used to hearing 'Bonjour' constantly, now heard the familiar and oh-so-natural 'Namaste'. They felt music to my ears.
I found myself admiring the entire hustle bustle- the bickering between cab drivers and passengers and the bargaining of ladies with them. All these instances, which normally used to irk me, now sounded pleasant and soothing.
Then after taking in the surroundings, I approached a cab driver and asked. "Bhaiya, Purani Dilli chaloge?" (Big Brother, will you go to Old Delhi?)
Uttering them was like a beautiful symphony. I didn't have to try hard to pronounce every word clearly, nor did I have to try hard to speak with the characteristic native accent. They all came naturally to me, as it was instilled in me from birth.
As the driver took me towards old Delhi, I chatted with him in my Mother Language - a task which I would have avoided at any cost under normal circumstances. I told him about coming here after a long time, and he shared his own experiences with me.
As I had lived in the world of 'mademoiselle', I found 'behenji' pure gold.
It was an unforgettable drive.
°°°
Note:- 'Behenji' means sister.
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Home Calling | ✔
Short StoryHomecoming is not just an instance. It's an emotion. Raavi describes the feeling of homecoming in her own narrative. Her immense joy and heart full of love render her nostalgic as she recalls everything about her homeland.
