Detachment :( – It always hurts

Yesterday, I read an article in newspaper, it’s a story of a leaf, how it started growing out of nowhere, the faint green color of adolescence to dark green being a mature among the others.

How it enjoyed the romance with the wind, that free flow, the way wind make it flutter.

Then during fall, how the classic green slowly turns to yellow and a little blackish.

The wind, which used to have a flirt with the leaf, how with a big snap, it gets detached from the tree branch and how gravity taking it down, while the wind flow taking it away from the tree area.

This reading made me too emotional and also made me firm not to visit my friends.

After graduation, most of my friends started working in Pune, I came to Mumbai to pursue my post-graduation and finally settled there only.

Almost all of my friends except one guy and myself, all used to be at Pune.

In those days, mobiles just started picking up, but due to exorbitant call rates, we mainly used to manage with the messages or phone calls from public booths.

Late night, we also used to play a strange game of giving missed calls, just to play hide and seek kind of thing. Just give one missed call and disconnect, whoever able to pick it up in that time, then there is no option but to speak at least for that one minute, as the charges for minute already have been deducted.

Meetings usually not happened. As years passed, we all got married.

They used to call me to Pune on many occasions. New year, birthdays, festivities etc.

But I rarely used to go. It’s not that I never used to get leaves, but the big pain I felt was, leaving them after enjoying those 1-2 days was a big task for me.

While travelling back to Mumbai, my eyes used to well up. In train/bus while coming back, used to think what all things we did, and started missing all those moments.

So, I decided, from next time onwards, I should avoid visiting them. Let them be angry at me, I can talk to them over that.

This is better than being nostalgic and crying while returning.

I know, it’s not common sense to avoid good moments, just because those make you nostalgic and giving pain later on.

One more thing, I have a son and I always wanted a daughter. I really get jealous when I see a father-daughter duo anywhere.

But when I visit marriages, that “Bidaai” scene [when the bride leaves her father’s place with her groom] makes my eyes wet always.

That time, I feel, it’s better not to have a daughter, because the pain of detachment with whom you spend almost most life-full of days, I can’t bear it.

May be its wrong, but I can’t help.