Back to the firepit

Of course, I had to make an India trip, especially with so much time off. But I dreaded it. I was angry at my parents and saddened by them. We had had some serious confrontations over the phone, which left me with the feeling that they weren’t really concerned about my happiness. And though I had squeezed out apologies and acknowledgements from them, I suspected they were just yessing me to reestablish normal relationships.

For the sake of my sanity, I limited my time in India to three weeks. According to Mike, this is the exact amount of time for which I can carry on in Kayamkulam without an emotional outburst, nay, eruption (I did, as predicted, blow up on the last day of my stay in Kayamkulam when I discovered that my suitcase was covered in mold; however, I managed to blow up privately, without my parents' knowledge).

The flight to Kochi was fairly painless. I fell asleep for a substantial portion of the first leg of my flight and wasn’t too jet-lagged as a result. Acha and amma insisted on picking me up from the airport, and we headed to the hotel together.

I was determined to keep my reserve; I wouldn’t be able to handle thoughtless comments from people whose love I had never had reason to question before. But once I saw my parents and hung out with them for a bit, I thawed. They were just old and vulnerable and full of love. It was too much to expect them to understand my situation and difficulties; they dealt with a completely different reality. The fact is, I am an adult and though it would be nice to feel understood, there is no point in trying to make them see my world. I just have to get on with things and continue to chart my own course.

We spent the first day in Cochin with a trip to the mall and a visit to Khadi Bhavan. We got some saris for Amma and Chech, some shirts for Acha and a dress for the niece. Acha, to my surprise made some intelligent remarks on color choices and prints and when I commented on his sudden improvement in taste, he said it was all thanks to his secret girlfriend.

Acha walked slower than Amma, which is saying a lot. At one point, when we were on the metro, he lost hold of the handrail and started falling backwards. We both grabbed him, and he made his excuses, saying he made the mistake of holding onto the rail instead of the hanging strap. But I could feel my acha's age and the awareness of the little time I have left with them, especially acha, caused all sorts of fears to whirl inside me. Where did the time go? How did we go from taking car rides together and shopping for groceries at Sultan Center to this? How did I get from 18 to 38?

We took an Uber back to Kayamkulam. Halfway through the ride Amma asked Acha if he wanted a tea break. I had to inform Amma that that is not how cabs work with Uber, but I later realized that tea break was probably a subtle way of suggesting a bathroom break.

As soon as we reached home, I could feel my allergies setting off. The combination of humidity, and the stuffiness that attracts fresh dust all the time, and also Amma’s selection of the most jarring prints for most of the fabrics at home had a throttling effect.

By next morning, my ears, nose and throat were feeling irritated and I could sense the inflammation coming along. I did some intense gargling to stave it off. At first, it looked like it was subsiding, but then things took a turn for the worse and I got hives under my eyes. The doc asked me to take a cortisol tablet immediately and put me on montelukast and antihistamines for the rest of my stay.

At this point, I told my parents, matter-of-factly, that I cannot continue visiting Kayamkulam, given that falling sick is a guarantee there. I figured my parents would get upset, but Amma agreed without protest and while Acha grumbled a bit and suggested a more “holistic” solution by consulting a doctor and fixing me, I pointed out that the solution is to not be in a place that has time and again, proven to possess the perfect environmental makeup for getting me sick.

Waiting around for other people to understand your needs is exhausting, it is easier to just set one’s terms and let people get on board if they feel like it. After all, what kind of people would expect one to sacrifice one’s own well-being for their emotional satisfaction?  For future visits, the plan is to rent an apartment in Cochin and stay there, with my parents joining me as they please.