Home so far

The idea is that this is going to be a long post.  I am trying to think of the right starting point. I am wondering whether I should bother not to repeat myself and I have already made up my mind that I most certainly will repeat myself. I think I will start with Mike's face. I don't know from which point during the car ride to the airport I have this snapshot of his face. But I know I am feeling irritable and tensed. Angry at my parents and angry at him for having to put on a show for three weeks. Angry that this is the best I can do to secure other people their happiness while securing my own. Three weeks, a length of time I told I am willing to forsake for some greater, longer boon.
I think we maybe in the school parking lot. There is no judgment on his face. It is as clear as a face can look when things are ambiguous. It is trying to learn something and adapt. I recognize the face. It is the same face that my mother has when shes trying to help, even as I am being unreceptive to all help. When I am acting like a brat. I regret it and I want to tell him something to make it better. I tell him I love him and I tell him I am sorry. But I want to tell him something else which I know now- that I will never let him regret his love. I don't know if this is something that he needs to hear.
In the airport as I wait, I encroach upon the lives of other passengers with and without their knowledge. I eavesdrop on their conversations, I trail their eyes to the tv, the kids who are out of control, what their clothes, accents and fidgeting tell about them. I realize that the ones with headphones are impenetrable.
 I eventually board, and during the flight I am surprised by how naturally the thankyous roll off my tongue as the attendants serve whatever. I think, someday I might even smile and make the kind of eye contact that makes people feel noticed. I sleep through most of it since sleep is the best way to kill unwanted time. There is nothing for me to do during the layover in Kuwait. I watch many a Kuwaiti woman strut past confidently in block heels. At the boarding gate, I see how naturally subservient Malayalees are and how naturally superior the Arabs at the checkpoint are. I wonder where all this "naturalness" is coming from. There is a woman standing next to me, a simpleton, thoroughly confused because her visa has just been cancelled. I grow acutely aware of the advantages in life I have received for no reason and then I shut my mind to it.
On my flight from Kuwait to Kerala, I turn to the man on right, fellow mallu, to ask about something on the customs form. He seems polite and I let him chat some more. I do not know how conversations with mallus turn so quickly to marriage and how solely based on the fact that I am living in the US, they warn me against marrying an American. I don't know how they feel compelled to tell me of the life choices that I must make, where I should settle, what job I should do, whom I should marry and what exactly is missing in my limited understanding of the world. He made a whole lot of bigoted remarks and left me a good bit agitated. 
I strongly suspect that many of these men have a deep-seated taming of the shrew fantasy (remember how the audience used to lap up this scene? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ALI9u-WFUyc). Never again in my life am I going to entertain any attempts at conversation by unknown Malayalee men, possibly no men. Benefit of the doubt can take a hike.
Acha and amma are waiting right at the airport exit. Its hard to miss amma's smile. I see they look well, we note that none of us have really changed except for the fact that amma dyed her hair and my sis is once again pregnant. On our way home I tell them american tales of how I've had to relearn the pronunciation of p and h, how people I met think Ayurveda is some kind of hocus pocus, how no one believes me when I tell them chicken in Kerala tastes way better. As soon as I get home, I go along to say hello to my dogs. I see that Inji has turned out to be quite a hardy dash. The house has changed a little too. Some changes are nice, but overall it seems more stuffy. For the first time I realize that my mother may have some serious hoarding issues. I have an urge to rearrange everything in the house and throw the old crap out. But this would take too much negotiation and convincing and I figure I should save my energy for better things.
My initial reaction is always one of shock. Its such a drastic change of scene that I am not fully sure where I am or why. I ate my lunch in disbelief. The taste of karimeen fry and thoran in my mouth was so unreal but so good. Amma sat beside me, wanting to talk. I couldn't, I had to believe the food first.
Other than during the ride home, I didn't really talk to my parents for the first few days. They seemed puzzled by the fact that nothing about my appearance or accent had changed. Acha said my malayalam was as good as ever, and I sat there smug as I modestly attributed it to my chats with the Coven. Nonetheless, I felt as false as ever, because everything that truly mattered had changed. But what had changed?
I was lying in bed feeling anxious after an awful but necessary chat with Mike. I figured I should do something to get rid of the glums. I told amma to come and sit beside me. She stroked my head as I lay there. She asked me if I really liked US better than here. I said yes and though it upset her, her eyes tearing up, she nodded. I knew she accepted it. I told her whatever logic I had made sense there, though it never did here, that I didn't have to fight or be angry all the time, that getting my point across was so simple, that being a woman there was so much easier. I could see the last bit resonated with her and I felt calm knowing she understood.
It isn't that I have changed. But there is a place that makes me happier than home, that I would consider for a new home. It is kind of a betrayal. A betrayal that to be honest, everyone knew would happen one day. Despite the fact that it has happened I don't think everyone can accept it. This new place, is a stranger and if so, I too am a stranger. As for me, this new place, is not truly mine still, so they needn't worry yet and I couldn't rest yet.