Paper Weight

I fly.

Yes I take up to the sky and glide amongst it. I dance with the strongest winds and flirt with the possibility of being torn apart. But only with you I fly, without you I can never be so graceful. If these lines were cut, I would come down - albeit slowly gliding to a crowd of gleeful scavengers. Then I would not know my fate. Would I ever fly again?

Till today, I lay hung up like all the rest. Not knowing what my fate would be. Who would be my master? Who would pay for me? Who would string me up? Would they know how to take care of me? It was frightful, the whole waiting game. Watching everyone as they passed along. Some throwing second glances and sone not even bothering to look. Yet, I hung there and waited.

As fate would have me, you picked me. You were beaming as you paid for me and carefully carried me over to your house. Exuberence, joyous, brimming with childish enthusiasm. You ran up with me and I was worried. You seemed brash and I was worried if you would be able to keep me aloft?

I watched with a mixed feeling as you measured out the string. I felt like Papillon jumping into the ocean, not knowing whether I would come crashing down or I would finally taste freedom. You strung me up with precision, and it felt good. I felt snug and secure. You lay me on the ground and gave a little tug.

Anxious and fearful.

A little more purposeful tug and the breeze lifts me. A little more tug and a little more airflow and I am up. I needn’t have worried. I was free. Moments later I was soaring. Up, up and up. Into the skies. I am kite and I feel free. I see everyone, I see everything, and I see everywhere.

I am far, but I’m still connected with you. I feel the wind getting stronger. It’s trying to blow me away, but I feel the string. I feel you holding me and I feel safe. I don’t mind the wind, it’s only trying to take me higher. But there are other dangers up here. The birds may tear me, the other kites may cut the string, the line may break. But I trust you. I trust that you’ll feel the strain . I needn’t worry. I know you’ll reel me in when the time is right. When the sun starts setting and darkness comes, you’ll reel me in and I’ll be home again.

Big Fish in Big Pond

"Ding dong.”

Door opens.

"Namaste Uncle, Namaste Auntie," you greet with your hands joined.

Auntie responds, “Namaste Babu.”

Uncle responds by offering a handshake instead. You reach out your hand, feeling foolish and grinning.

You look around at everyone and it’s like you’re in a different world. After living by yourself, this whole family living seems so alien. You wander along, maybe there’s a familiar face in the crowd. None. Everyone seems so old, like a generation of people you had not seen. It feels like being Peter Pan among Captain Hook’s crew.

You sit at a table and try to strike up a conversation but can’t find any ice breakers. There’s a bunch of kids running around and of all the things, you say “baccha haru lai ta kasto ramailo hai” to the 50+ person sitting next to you.  Wow, even small talk is different now.

Twiddle you thumbs, drink some beer, all the while thinking of some topic you may have in common. Maybe you can ask him what he does here. But wait that may be offensive or you may sound too inquisitive. Maybe you can ask them about their children. Naah. How about the 49'ers? Considering the grey hairs, I don't think that would lead anywhere. Twiddle some more. Drink some more.

A man comes and makes himself comfortable in the next chair. Confidently and authoritatively he asks, “Bhai ayeko kati bhayo?”.

“8 barsa”, you answer sounding as stolid as you can. “Ani tapaiko?”

“Ye, 30 barsa bhayo”.

Okay, guess it’s time to listen now. Every now and then you put your 2 cents in and people listen, but you get the feeling they’re not taking you seriously.

“Ani, bhai ko umer kati bhayo?”

“28.”

“La, tyaso bhaye ta biha garne umer bhayecha.  Yesso yata ko keti samatera bihe garnu.”

“Ka,” (momentary pause to decide whether to call him dai or uncle, then you say neither) “gf le marihalcha ni.”

Everyone responds with a laughter and you feel lighter.

“Ding, dong.”

The doors are opened and another group of people walk in, a younger group. Last among them is someone you know, an old friend. Yay!

You finish up the conversation and head out to the younger group.

“Hi!, haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Oh my god! Hello. How've you been?”

Introductions about and you’re feeling at ease now. It’s a generation you can identify with. Catching up, talking about the job market, how their college years were, and Ocean City.