Packing

With 10 days left before I leave Canada and head to the Netherlands for a week before flying to Mumbai, my suitcase is lying empty and open against the wall facing my window.

My room looks like every thing got caught in a storm and settled somewhere between chaos and serenity and my nights are occupied with drawing after childhood drawing being put neatly into small boxes and dropped in a corner, wondering how long my hair will be when I open them again because those dreams of fairies and straw rooftops are put away too. Of that little girl that liked the colours blue and yellow and running and running to catch a distant maturity she thought she always wanted. And now I'm here.

Of not being able to land on a balancing point. Am I sad? Am I excited? Am I scared? Maybe. It's unreal, so I'm stuck here feeling like everything is normal. Well, things might be normal. But I have the constant feeling that I should be crying, or jumping but I'm running over my moss covered backyard and sinking my fingers into the soil and wanting to sleep for a while.

I am ready. I am so ready. But sometimes I wish I had more time to appreciate everything I've understood these last few weeks. How to sum up the last 16 years of my life in a suitcase.