I got back from Goa last night. I wasn't too sure about going but I was having a really great time, but I've been thinking a lot lately and realised a lot of important things about my life that I've been missing.
Like the fact that in less than 2 months, I've been on 11 long airplane rides and spent 38+ hours sitting in airplanes. I've spent roughly around 28 hours in cars and buses traveling to and from airports. All of these by myself.
And if I were to start about the time it takes to go through security checks in each airport, and the time it takes to just generally hang around and wait for your plane to land or to take off, or wait in the car stuck in traffic - I guess it might shock me how much time I actually spend on my own. And I actually complain about never having enough time on my own!
I talk a lot about how much I hate eating alone and how I never do. I never actually realised it but apparently, I've been eating 'by myself,' technically, quite a bit in the past few weeks. If I eat my lunch and dinner by myself but in a plane full of people, does it still count as eating alone?
I went to my friend's granddad's 78th year old birthday in Melbourne. That was anothing thing that sort of made me sad. It was a nice, warm family get-together - big dinner, aunts cooking, kids gorging themselves, good conversation around the dinner table...all the usual family things. I enjoyed myself, but it suddenly made me miss home and our own family dinner where we'll bring out the big pots and ladles and plates and do our own family thing.
The Mizoram trip home was good. My mother is the one person I miss all the time, and I am not even ashamed to admit this, because it's too precious to be ashamed about. These days when I go home, I only sleep with my mom. I'll get my little cousin, and we all sleep together, and talk and laugh late into the night. And there is nothing in the world better than that. Nothing.
But it bothers me that I don't talk enough with my dad. In a year, if I count all the hours I spend with my dad, it won't even make a day. I've spent more time chatting with Taxi drivers - loving fathers talking about their families, how many kids they have, what kind of future they envision for their kids, but I haven't had the time to spend enough time with my own father.
I mean, if I can talk all day to a random man I met on some lonely beach about my fears and insecurities and what about dying scares me, and what in my life hurts, and what makes me proud or happy - all with a total stranger from a different continent - why can't I with my own dad? What if I die tomorrow? Or what if he dies tomorrow? It would be so painful I wouldn't know how to deal with something like that.
I don't know what the solution is, but this is partly why I packed my bags and left Goa and my friends last night. It's not that easy - they're there having fun and I make this trip to the airport alone to leave it all and go home on my own. But I don't care. I miss Mizoram just too much right now to care too much about Goa or the rest of the world.
I'll try to be a better daughter. I'll try to spend more time with the people that are closest to me. Even if it means working less, or cutting back on the fun.
(I did get some amazing pictures in Goa. Actually very excited to post about those. Will share as soon as I upload.)