Malayali in London ~ Part-4

Chapter-1:

. . . Thiruvananthapuram . . .

Dinner wasn’t much fun. Everyone was silent. Mum asked Father when we would be shifting, and he said in three months. He also said that he’ll go to London a few weeks before us. He said that the same old friend who got him the job would find us a house, and he’d go there before us to get the registration done. So, this is happening for real. After dinner, we settle the mess we made during the day and go to bed. We’ll be packing our stuff to move soon.

.       .       .

I’m sitting on the floor of my room, holding one of my old photo frames. I haven’t turned on the lights, the room is only lit by the afternoon sunlight that’s shining through the curtains of my window. All of my things were packed, except the photo frame. My father went to London a month ago. He bought a nice two-story house with a big backyard with a huge tree, and he showed it to us in a video chat. It was the thing I liked best about the house; I’d love to climb that tree.

I stare at the photo frame, it’s a very old photo of me, William and Dad. I was in tenth grade back then. I changed a lot in five years. My ashy brown hair’s grown longer and I have light bangs now too. My father, Will and I all share the same rosy mouth and ivory skin tone. Dad and Will look mostly alike, with the same copper hair and blue eyes. I look a lot like Mother but I still am a copy of my father. William hasn’t changed much, he still has the same sharp features, all that’s changed is his build; he’s no longer only skin and bone. As for me, I’m still as skinny as I ever was. The only thing that hasn’t changed is my eyes. They’re my mother’s eyes. They’re as grey as smoke.

I smile and put the photo frame in my shoulder bag. I throw the bag on my shoulders and walk downstairs to find Mum cross-cross-checking the trolley bag to see if we forgot something. Will comes down with his shoulder bag. Our flight to London is from Bengaluru. But first, we have to take a train ride to get to Bengaluru. We bid Amama and ammavam goodbye and got into our taxi to the station. The mover packers took our stuff a few weeks ago. They've already moved it to our house in London, and Dad has unboxed what he could. But he can't sort much of the stuff out. Good thing Mum had marked all the boxes otherwise the house would have been a total mess.