A cousin from Amrika landed home today. While I waited for him eagerly, the moment when we finally met approached sometime around 8.30 pm on a Saturday. With a flight to catch the next day, he was somewhat racing against time.
And tada, he walked in. While 3 years didn't make much of a difference when we finally met, I was secretly glad that he had let his unibrow grow, uninhibited. Guess that's the thing with people you grow up with. The camaraderie is something that you can't define.
Tidbits from the conversation:
S: What you upto these days?
D: I am freelancing.
S: Tried Upwork?
D: Did create a profile. Yet to work on the details. No one seems to be interested in giving me a job in Bangalore.
S: Engineers don't know how to write. They need people to put to words what they 'think' and want to convey. There's a lot of scope for technical writing.
D: Yeah, like one of those teams who told to explain the step-by-step process of explaining to a 70-year-old person how to operate Facebook.
S: Oh, you are into 'fantasy' more. Aren't you?
While the conversation veered to Biden and Kamala post that, I wondered about how this guy travelled all the way to meet old friends and part of his extended family the minute he got to escape from USA despite a situation where no one can really predict whether the Covid situation is indeed better or if it is just the silence before a storm ( I hope not).
It reminded me of a dialogue from a recent Malayalam movie, Varane Avashyamund,
"Travel. Travel a lot. But, once in a while, travel back to your roots."
While I recollect all the memories, he has already reached his hotel and is sleeping soundly (I hope) after a long journey.
Fantasy, eh? If life is, then hell yeah!
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