Finally, that weekend came that I had been waiting for the last two months. My sister and I were going back to our hometown.
You only understand the value of going home when you live away from it. For the last two months, I was counting days. We both work in the city, and life there is always fast and noisy. But the thought of home kept us going. And when the day finally arrived, we were both so excited that we barely slept the night before. Most specifically i was excited to meet my Mom...!
Our bus time was 6:00 AM. We had booked our tickets two days earlier because weekend buses are always full. We woke up at 4:30 AM. It was still dark outside. We got ready quickly, double-checked our bags....! yes, I had my father's mini flower vase safely packed, my mother's bag, and the chocolates for my nephew. My sister also had her small bag of gifts.
We reached the bus station around 5:30 AM. The station was already crowded, but there was a different kind of peace in the early morning. Tea stalls were just opening, the smell of fresh samosas and chai filled the air. Thankfully, a general store was already open. We were hungry and we knew the journey would be long, so we did some snacks shopping. We bought Lays, biscuits, chips, two juice boxes, and some toffees. My sister said, "We will eat these on the way, or we will give them to nephew." We both laughed.
At exactly 6:00 AM, our bus arrived. It was a very comfortable AC bus. We found our seats we had window seats together, seat number 8 and 9. The seats were soft, there was enough leg space, and the windows were clean. As soon as we sat down, I felt relaxed. The bus started moving slowly out of the city.
Outside, the weather was so beautiful. Early in the morning, everything was so peaceful. There were no horns, no traffic rush. The sky was just turning from dark blue to light orange. The street lights were still on, but the sun was about to rise. The roads were almost empty. Small tea shops were opening, a few people were jogging, and some were going to the mosque for Fajr prayer.
I was sitting on my seat, with my head resting on the window. My sister was listening to music beside me. The cool morning air was coming from the small gap in the window. I was just watching everything outside like a movie. The city was slowly waking up. I saw children going to madrassa, farmers carrying milk, and vendors arranging fresh vegetables.
And then, I saw it.
In the soft morning light, there was a beautiful Mosque. It was on the side of the main road. Its white domes were glowing in the early light, and its minarets were standing tall against the bluish sky. The mosque looked so calm and so powerful at the same time. There was no noise around it, just a few people entering inside and some birds sitting on its walls. It was such a peaceful sight that I couldn't resist. I quickly took out my phone and captured a picture of the mosque through the bus window.
That picture is still my favorite from the whole journey. It may not be a professional photo, but it has a feeling in it. It has the peace of early morning, the beauty of faith, and the feeling of returning home. Every time I look at it now, I remember that exact moment - the cool air, the quiet bus, and my heart full of hope.
As the bus moved forward, we left the city behind and entered the countryside. The view became even more beautiful. Green fields on both sides, small canals with water, buffaloes grazing, and small villages where smoke was coming out from chimneys as people were making breakfast. My sister and I were eating our snacks, talking about what we would do at home. She was saying, "First thing I will do is eat mother's handmade paratha." And I was thinking about my nephew running towards us.
The journey of three to four hours felt like 30 minutes because our hearts were already at home. The bus was comfortable, the weather was perfect, and our minds were peaceful.
Around 11:30 AM, we saw the board of our hometown. Both of us screamed in a low voice, "We are here!" The bus stopped at the main stand. As soon as we got down, we saw our father waiting for us on his old motorcycle. He smiled, that same loving smile we had missed for two months.That 6:00 AM bus journey was not just a journey. It was a journey back to love, back to peace, back to ourselves. The comfortable seats, the beautiful morning, the picture of the mosque I took from the window, and the small packet of snacks we bought before coming - everything will stay in my memory forever.
Going home is always a beautiful experience, but going home after a long time with your sister, early in the morning, watching the world wake up slowly, is something else.
We Reached our home at around 12:15....it was such a wonderful moment hugging my mom after so long. These two months felt like a decade.... I got tears in my eyes while hugging her. After that she told me that she has made my favorite pratha with omelet...this breakfast is the most elite class breakfast for me and my most favorite one.
I wanna cherish every single moment at home with my mother. I know these two days will spend like an eye click.
Hows your weekend going?
What are your weekend plans?
Have a joyful weekend you all..... :)