Last time I cried tears of happiness:AmitL

The year: 2003. The month: January.

It was nearly one year since I had joined my previous company, here in Dubai, as a greenhorn, in spite of my having had a long work experience in India. (Also, within two months of joining, I’d changed my forte from engineering to Engineering-based-Procurement, which made me more of a greenhorn that first year. LOL)

My leave application had been discussed, negotiated, debated, dissected. mulled over and any other words you can think of, before it was passed. It had gone to the extent of being told ‘You are an engineer. Engineers don’t take leave’ and ‘Why 30 days? Go for ten days and come back’. But, after all the haggling, and, seeing that I remained firm to the extent of saying 'Either I go, or, I GO (forever),(In fact, this threatening was something I continued every year, otherwise I'd have grown old here and forgotten what Baroda was like) they had finally signed the application and the clearance for me to be paid my LTA.(The Procurement Mgr, the HR Manager, the Finance Manager, the MD- all signed). That was the first ‘tears of happiness’ I had in private, that evening, when I returned to the studio flat where I was staying. I know it sounds silly, but, when you have been away from your family and relatives and all, for the first time in your life, and that too for a full year, such emotions do come into play, however, err, mature you tout yourself to be.

Anyway, after days of anticipation, of shopping (At that time, electronic gizmos, gift items, et al were still not so easily available in India as they are now, in the dollar shops, the Rs 49-99 shops, and even with the friendly neighbourhood larriwallah), of numbering (this gift for this individual, et al-after all, it was the first trip back to India), et al, the day dawned. Rather, the night dawned, err, fell. I was at the airport 4 hours before the flight, and, once the entry was permitted, I spent a pleasant time doing a bit more last-minute shopping and more of window-shopping at DDF(Dubai Duty Free)(Shucks, I might as well say this- at that time, in the first year, I’d not saved much, as is normal for anyone setting up a ‘second home’ anywhere, and all this shopping had put another dent(happy dent?) into the savings.)

Along with all the other ‘mad’ people, as soon as the boarding announcement was made, I rushed with my cabin baggage to stand in the jostling crowd(Now, I don’t rush sooo much, naturally!) and heaved a big sigh of relief when I entered the plane- no-one could call me now for work-related issues(The calls had continued till the airport). After observing the co-passengers(the villager who sat with his feet up on the seat in a squatting position, for example- you get these sorts when you travel AI, even today, I’m sure), and settling down, the time flew by, and suddenly, the announcement came-‘ We shall be landing at Mumbai’s CST airport in thirty minutes…’

…and, THAT was the moment (the last time I can remember) when I had tears of happiness in my eyes. All kinds of dramatic things, like wanting to bend down in prayer on landing on Indian earth and picking up a mound of earth(Mere desh ki dharti, so to speak), shaking hands with all the passengers, dancing around at the airport to express my joy crossed my mind. (Of course, I didn’t do any of them.Or, did I??*muses* )

And, then, the plane landed.