On the hours before leaving home

Your bags are packed and ready to go – one backpack and one trolley. The books that you were reading are tidily sorted inside. Your laptop has been neatly tucked away in the sleeve that has been neglected for far too long. In preparation for the lengthy trip, you ensure that your phone is charged to its maximum capacity.

The question is, what do you do in the hours before leaving your home?

Do you storm into the kitchen and yell at your mother for working so hard while making your favorite chicken curry, packing left-over polao from Eid, wrapping the achaar in a tightly sealed ghee tin, and searching frantically for an empty ice-cream box?

"I don't have enough room to store that much food," I try to reason.

"What if the train is late? You'll eat half of it on the way, and your friends will polish off the rest in a matter of minutes," she counters.

Do you then go in search of the long-abandoned shopping bags to pack your food in?

Or do you approach your father while he is sitting on the balcony going through the newspaper and have the same conversation that you have already had?

For the hundredth time, he inquires, "Did you pack everything properly?"

For the hundredth time, I tell him, "Yes."

"Did you receive the money I had sent?"

"Yes."

"Always be cautious on journeys and in general."

"I will."

Do you then follow that up by helping him water the plants together?

Maybe, you wake your cats up by going out onto the terrace where they are peacefully snoozing in the shade. Do you give them a final hug, bathe them, feed them chicken gravy, and cuddle with them one last time before you leave so that they will remember you with love?

"Meow, meowww, meoww...," you imitate them.

They answer with their cute little purrs.

Now, you sit in the living room and give your parents advice on how to not miss you too much while also assuring them that you will be back soon. Do you, for the hundredth time, remind them to take their medications on schedule and to at least go for an evening stroll?

Or do you choose to avoid making your departure obvious by sitting in a different room than you would on a typical day? Do you sit and stare into the abyss, wondering when you will return, or if you will return at all? Is there any chance your parents will always be the way they are now? If you will ever be the same?

Will it ever feel like home again?

So, tell me if you know what to do in the hours before leaving home.

Shadya Naher Sheyam attempts to live life like Ashima from The Namesake. Talk to her about Mira Nair films at: sadianaharsiam@gmail.com