End Of An Era

It’s 30 minutes before I leave, so this is going to be short. I just got off Facebook and MSN, after saying my e-goodbyes. I am still shaken by the “farewell” get together that took place at home. It started off normally; then slowly moved into gear. It then shifted to [in order] condoms and bananas [thanks Romit], pool, foosball, an unbelievably awesome gift, some Indian chat, truth and dare, stripping of my pants, some awesome Ishika-singing, ketchup massage by Ali on Romit’s head, Dad’s entry, Mum’s constant camera work, all the letters and finally, Ali’s “Never Say Goodbye”. Suddenly, it hit me. It hit me hard. It would probably never be the same again. Yes, we would see each other again and again, but time and distance are bitches. Yes, the “love” would be there, but our priorities will have changed – drastically. It would never be the same again – a temporary goodbye for sure, but a permanent end to a friggin’ era.

18 years and “era”? It almost doesn’t make sense. But together, we and alone, I have been through oh so much, done a billion things, had the loudest “output” laughs ever, fought like rabid dogs with egos clashing like Expelliarmus and Avada Kedavra, worked our butts of with Redial Entertainment without much compromise on fun, won the friggin’ Inter School Football Tournament against all odds, went to Burjuman and City Centre a record number of times, buried Romit in Jumeirah Beach, drifted away into another world at Poseidon’s Pier, given exams that we hated, seew my sister leave, seen my parents win the Best Parents In The Entire Universe Award, SFS-ed all year round, prepared for universities, dealt with separations, dropped Mcdonalds and the rest of the fast-food gang for a year, ate pizza, saw a bunch load of midnight premieres, grew our hair and shaved it off completely [Romit!], loved and hated school, loved and hated ourselves, but loved and loved each other. Always. This is my first ending. The final chapter of Part 1 of my life has concluded – time for Part 2.

Mum’s calling. She wants me rattle out the traditional Indian prayers, before heading out with my bags. My mouth smells a bit thanks to the garlic butter in the Shawarma I just had. Oh I am going to miss Shawarma. Tears wiped, goodbyes said [most], hugs hugged and bags packed – it’s Austin time.

P.S. Sonia, I told you I’d do my last entry whilst in Dubai. =)