On the plane to delhi

This is a trip back home after 7 months of moving out of my home country to London. It feels strange to pack for journey back home. Strange to embrace the old "normal" life. in the plane I saw the movie Lion again. It made me cry again. I could identify with the young boy in the movie running around to find a place of comfort and security. I feel lost just like him. Running into nothingness. Trying to embrace strangers. I am an outsider in the city that I now live in. My language doesn't help in building any bridges. The men that I meet have nothing of interest to hold me back.

I am flying back to the hot land. While in the flight, I am making a list of things that I want to see in Delhi . I am now on my third glass of vodka. A bit tired and have a headache. I met a French guy before leaving for home. I like him. But I don't think he is interested in anything other than the mere physical act. I want to tell the French guy about the French movie that I am watching on the plane. I liked the part where the female protagonist asks her husband, who she thinks that she is in a loveless marriage with, " why didn't you tell me the truth" and the husband replies saying "because I wanted you to live and see it through". That's what my life seems to be about. To just to be able to see it through. I like it when the French guy hold my hand. He is white and I am brown. Indian brown he says. His hands are always warm and mine are always cold. He has inspected every inch of my body. Intimacy can be funny. We measure the pressure points by massaging each other's shoulders. He is familiar with every curve of my body. But lines are drawn the moment that I exit his apartment.