I’ve written about my sons’ visits to India—how they spend time with us, filling our hearts with memories that sustain us until the next visit. But as soon as they leave, a cloud of loneliness descends, and a temporary sadness takes over. It feels like all our energy has been sucked out, and every path to happiness is blocked. 

We’re resilient, though. The moment we know they’ve reached the U.S. safely; the gloom starts to lift. Life returns to its usual rhythm, with routines, distractions, TV shows, YouTube, walks, and cricket helping us pass the time. And in the back of our minds, we know we’ll meet again soon—either here or in the U.S. 

Then, the classic "moms and dads" thoughts start rolling. To parents, no matter how old their children get, they’ll always be kids. Moms will say, “He likes this dish; I couldn’t make it for him this time.” Or “Was the bed uncomfortable? I hope he’s eating well; he looked thin.” 

And dads? “Why couldn’t he take a break during vacation? Working from home at night isn’t good for him—he needs to change jobs.” Or “Is he exercising enough? I hope he’s not stressed.” 

Meanwhile, the kids think differently. They may not share all their thoughts to avoid worrying us but say things like, “We’re grown-ups now, don’t worry. The world’s changing; have a modern outlook.” Yet they still worry about us: “Don’t let mom take an auto; it’s not safe. Do your shopping online instead of going out. Don’t be sedentary—get some exercise. We’ll meet again in a few months.” 

Even with 10,000 kilometers between us, these concerns persist. That’s just how it is—parents will always be parents, and kids will always be kids, no matter how far apart they are. 

Contd. 333. 75 + / -