Living Abroad: Why I’d cry on the plane to India

I was Miss Cry-A-Lot on the flights to India from SFO. From my home door in SOMA SF, I’d start with a heavy doze of airport anxiety. It’s a sick stomach feeling of “What If I miss the flight even though I am reaching 4 hrs earlier?” or “Am I missing documents for the H1b visa stamping?” or “What if the boarding pass doesn’t scan?”. Then I’d sit down on the economy seat, & Anxiety would be replaced by the pain of missing family, being alone, and helplessness.

I had perfected the art of crying on a plane.

My tears would sprout when the lights dimmed. You can’t have told I’m crying if you looked at me. My head down, the tears would be wiped off before they spread over my face. I’d blow my stuffed nose in the restroom. A movie or two distracted me, but the tears would involuntarily return. This happened every flight leg — SFO -> BOM and BOM -> SFO. My memories of plane rides were of tears of missing home. Oh, NRI! You’ve so much hurt in you, and no one understands!

When I moved to India it took 2 years to feel ‘ekdum jhakaas’ as they say. In my travels, BLR-> SFO or BOM->EWR, I still froze up with the thought of travelling Economy. The memories of those tears were so strongly associated with that seat, I knew it was going to take me time to wash those feelings.