The Last Day

Today is my last day for this year in my home country. Tomorrow, I leave for my foster nation. It is the same drill every year. I go out to meet my friends. I tell my folks I will be back by 12:00 am. I drive around with my friends, searching for liquor outlets, 'cause, you know, every year they close the liquor outlets an hour earlier. We try the usual suspects : Hotel Blue Diamond, Hotel Aurora Towers, the Pride, the Le Meridien. Only the Le Meridien serves alcohol past 12:00. But since we have been to Le Meridien just 2 days ago, and 'cause it's as expensive as a hooker on Mardi Gras, we decide on the alternate cheaper way : to go to Paud road to the Police sanctioned illegal liquor outlet that is always awake come hell or high water, till 2:00 am.

And that is where we get 6 bottles of Kingfisher beer extra strong, after which, we retire to my friend's outhouse to debate on Indian politics and drink Kingfisher Extra strong beer till 5:00 am. Then, the unfortunate friend, whose outhouse we have been infesting till now, offers to drive us non-vehicle owners home. I am left standing at the corner of my house and the lamppost. Since I am drunk and leaving for the US the next day, I squeeze my driver friend's hand a bit longer than usual, hug my friend sitting next to me on the backseat a bit harder than usual. I ring the bell.

My folks, who have been camping out on the living room sofa, turn the lights on even before I get out of the car. They have been waiting and listening for a car engine all night long. I am the son who is departing for the US. I am scolded as I go inside. "Dad's got to drive all the way to Bombay tomorrow", says my mom. I mumble something even I don't comprehend. I go upstairs to my bedroom, intending to fall asleep right away.

I don't fall asleep. I open the door to the balcony and go outside. I look down at our garden. I see our cat sitting on our porch. Our cat will save me.

Every year I come here for a vacation, my last night here is hell. The only way I salvage my sanity and keep myself from running home from the airport is to do the following : I let our cat back in. Our cat is a selfish bitch. Before I let her in, she is all appreciative and purring. After I let her in, she goes to her dish in the kitchen and eats the cat food left in it. And then, without even a look or a meow, she fucks off. And I close the door. I needed that so I wouldn't feel so bad about leaving. I needed some animal cynicism. So I let her in.

She purred about for a bit and ate her food. Loud cracking noises filled the house. Things were going according to plan. Then, she came to me and looked at me. I told her to get out of the house. Instead, she leapt on my lap. She made herself comfortable. I stroked her head, crying to myself. Things weren't going the way I had hoped they would.

I told her to get up. She refused. I picked her up and opened the door. I kept her outside on the porch. I kissed her stupid head and said "Goodbye sweetheart till next year. Hope you are still here then", and I let her go. She ran away into the darkness. I went back inside.

Tomorrow I leave. I won't be back for at least a year. I hope things won't change a lot by the time I come back. I hope my folks won't look older. I hope my cat is still alive. I hope my house is still in good shape. I hope I can still make out the entrance to our driveway.

I hope I come back next year.