Dilemma

"Final call for Hyderabad-Calcutta flight!" "Gate to be closed at 11:10 AM!" – came the clarion call at the airport. A mature man of 28 came running to the hub wherefrom the voice emerged. The sector flashed "Gate 17A". A black hat, a blue t-shirt that read "Korbo lorbo jitbo re" and a heavy backpack adorned the enthusiastic adult. It was time for the flight to take off. Everyone settled in their seats. The young man received a seat between two veterans. He knew everyone in the flight belonged to his native place. After an entire year filled with labor and sweat, he had the right set of circumstances to visit his birth place. "City of Joy" as it is known by all waited to welcome all the struggling souls with its sweet culture and pompous celebrations. No definition can rightly define the umbilical cord that exists between a person and his motherland. The champ heard his seatmate talk over phone in his own mother tongue. Every bit of the conversation was understood. Despite being amidst his own cultural background, a sense of rootlessness haunted him. Alienation struck him hard every moment. He has been battling outside for his living for past ten years. A long time so! Did the umbilical cord suffer a rupture? He felt the lack of connection between him and his co-passengers. Was language a prominent barrier? His own homeland felt so distant! So did his native people! "Can you please put my baggage up there?" said the mature soul. "Yes! Certainly!" came the reply. "Where are you from?" questioned the man. "I am from Durgapur. I live near city center. I work in Hyderabad in a software company," said the other one. They engaged in a small talk that went on in a language foreign to both. No one dared to exchange in their vernacular medium. The conversation stopped after a little while. The plane was up already hovering in the sky. A sudden silence grasped the cheerful soul. A stroke of pain crossed his chest. Perhaps, a burden dawned on him. He failed to balance the imbalance. Estrangement followed. Was it an identity crisis? Was it shame to put forward the glory of his natal tongue? What isolated him so much? Why did hesitation pave its way? His dwindling mind grew more and more. A voice surfaced again. "We have reached our destination five minutes prior to the scheduled time. Thank you for flying with us. Wish you a happy stay!" All the passengers left one by one except one. The oscillating man sat still alone and all alone. He questioned himself – "Where did I arrive? Where is my motherland? What language do I speak? What is my real identity?"