That First time...

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After a chronic period of illness, alas i still can't claim that I am perfectly fit. I an still coughing till my eyes are becoming red.But this post ain't about that. Because a human with a body is supposed to fall sick. The post is about my first time experience inside a flight. It was special not only because it was my mom's as well as my first time but also because the tickets were from my own earning. My father used to say that there is a difference between boarding a plane because of your parents and making your parents sit inside a plane on account of your hard work and earnings. The smile on my mother's face said it all. I missed my father that day. 1st of October 2018 would have been so different if you were there but I am sure you are smiling and blessing me from wherever you are, as always. Your laughter and your words, the way you called me with your given name to me is all so fresh in my mind, my heart. I wonder how do people move on? I have not. Or maybe I have. My way is very, very different. I wish i could lie confidently all the time, everywhere. I hate illnesses more because when I am sick I become a little weak both physically and mentally and that is when i can't stop myself from missing you. To hell with my damned mind. Also I have started realizing that four, five people have started becoming possessive about me. Should I be happy about it or sad? Does it mean that I am really special to them or does it mean that I am more like a commodity to be owned. Why do THEY feel possessive about me? Do THEY have reasons? P.S- Also my heartfelt thanks to Ananya and her family for rescuing my mother and my damaged health by taking us both to a doctor in a new strange place. Thank you. A Bengali in need is a Bengali indeed. ;)

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