The Sum of Its Parts

Life follows the laws of physics.

Once it's set in motion, it follows an arc. At first, it accelerates like a pearly baseball, hurled at the pitcher. The first few moments are quick, hot, and constantly changing. They set the direction, the angle, and even the ending, minus the wind and surprises chance introduces in the middle. Then, as gravity puts in its time, the momentum hits a point at the top of the curve. Up turns to down, where you're from and where you're going seem equidistant, and time stands still for a moment.

But only a moment.

Then gravity collects its dues.

Life speeds up again, but this time, the view is different. There is more behind you than there is ahead. And fall makes it seem like you knew where you were going all along.

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After a week of anxious should-I-go should-I-not-go, Minerva finally told us that "it is no longer acceptable to remain in the residence hall." As friends trickled out of the Rez, the idea of leaving Hyderabad a month and a half early was no longer an if, but a when. First Grace left, and as she shut the cab door, confusion and anger bubbled from my eyes. This is so unfair.

Then Hanaka left. I didn't cry. This was expected.

Then it was Lillian. I don't really know if I was apathetic, or the need to subdue panic made me numb.

I got a call. Time's up. The rest of the night I glued myself to all of those whom I cared about. I slept for three hours, woke up, and dragged myself onto the flight. I hate this.

So now I'm here, in Bangalore, at a friend's house. Only halfway through school, only halfway through goodbye, and I don't understand how I feel.

Half my heart is brimming with fear, not of the virus or getting sick, but of having to wait five and a half months to see my friends again. They're my chosen family. The people who chose to stand by me, not because we share blood, but because we share trust. And the greatest enemy of relationships, is time.

The other half is not even remotely identifiable. A little anger, a little annoyance, and even a little confusion at the state of the world. A little entitlement for the time and events and fun that was planned and snatched away at the last moment. A little grief from losing the little things that I didn't realize I would lose so quickly.

It's always the little things.

The way Lillian would scream AMULYA every-time I entered the room, or watching Pose with Grace and screaming YAS QUEEN excitedly when shit went down. Their silent kindness and constant cooking and planning and creating. I miss Hanaka's devious giggles and the late night pilgrimages to get chai and shawarma. I miss Han's yelling, and making fun of the brides in Say Yes to the Dress, and how she sleeps with an eye open, and how her hair always smelled of smoke, and her anger at the world's indiscriminate mistreatment. I miss Ibukun doing dumb Ibukun things and prancing around the living room, always optimistic, always ready to battle my pessimism with annoying rays of sunshine. I miss Elisha's awkward, and her beautiful make up, and the way that her hugs remind me of a child who just wants to be loved.

And there's so much more. There's always more.

Sentido Coffee and barista smiles, the coconut stands always full on the way. The tiffin place that remembers my order. Two idlies one vada. The At Home staff who taught us how to play carroms, who never fails to say hello. The watchman at the gate who always returns my smile, as if conversation was unnecessary, since smiles were saturated with silent recognition. Swiggy adventures, Grace's brunch, hanging with the Africans, going to restaurants, cafes, working with Timothee, working with SXP, building, creating, learning, meeting new people, meeting myself over and over, being alone, being not alone, making sure my people were not alone, reaching out first, getting excited, being happy, smiling for no reason, smiling at the sky, smiling because my heart demanded it but my mind couldn't decipher why, just l i v i n g.

Just thinking about it slowly pulls my cheeks up and creases my eyes. And it was only half.

I don't know what's going to happen now, and honestly, it's not worth trying to predict since the rate of change is unpredictable and irrational right now. Borders are closing and Minerva is panicking, but what can we really do about it? Nothing is in our hands.

Sometimes I wonder where I am in my arc. I wonder if I've reached the peak and it's only downhill from here, or if I'm still accelerating and changing. Or if happiness is the same thing as slowing down and knowing who we are. I can't see where my life will end up going, but I can feel the things that make me happy in life, and that's definitely something.