Leaving Dhaka by Parvez Kamal by Parvez Kamal

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I could see her eyes swelling with tears. It was one of the many moments when I had to try real hard to compose myself. I looked around my room, my bed, and my table for one last time. The books I had so enjoyed reading were nicely stacked; the cassettes I listened to were not lying all over the floor.
There were 4 cars in my farewell procession. My culture likes to say goodbye in a grand way. Not counting my parents, there were 14 of us. The number would have been higher if they didn't have restrictions in entering the airport. Only the ticket holder is allowed inside, unless his or her companions have special permits. Because my dad works for the government he was able to obtain so many permits. In the car, I sat between my dad and my mom. All the way to the airport my dad was telling me what to do, and what not to do. My mom didn't say anything. Her hand was moving through my hairs and over my body, as if she was comforting a little baby. I was looking out the car window, trying to catch one last glimpse of my beloved city. Looking at the empty streets made me feel lonely. The harsh afternoon sun and the weekend meant that nothing much was happening on the roads. The usually vibrant city was very quiet. It was the first time in a long busy day that I had a quiet moment to myself.
Once we reached the airport the activities began again. I passed my bags through the security checkpoint, paid the embarkation tax, got my boarding cards. I joined my family after all the formalities were taken care of. Suddenly, my dad noticed my mom's uncle standing outside the glass window, trying to attract our attention. He had come all the way from the village. He went to our house, but we had already left. Then he took a taxi to the airport. The security personnel wouldn't let him in, so he bribed the guard. He also told the guard "My grandson is leaving for the States. Nothing in the world is going to stop me from saying goodbye". It made me realize how much everyone loved me. And how much I was going to miss them.
Finally it was time to leave. I said farewells to everyone. I hugged my little brother, told him to be good, not to act naughty. He was saying yes to everything, the sweet child he was. I bent down and touched the feet of my parents, asking for their blessings. All throughout the day my mom was trying to be strong, tying very hard not to cry. But then she broke down. I took the backpack in my hand and walked towards the immigration. I walked in, turned around for a moment and waved goodbye. They were all standing together, looking so helpless. I didn't dare take a second look, because I knew I wouldn't be able to leave if I did.
Once I settled down in my seat I looked out the window. Darkness was falling outside, as was in my inside. So many thoughts were going through my mind. The image of my parents and my family standing there was still tearing through my heart. The excitement of going outside the country for the first time was making me restless. The anxiety of where I'll stay once I reach New York was scaring me. I had contacted a friend. But he himself arrived in the States just one month back and was staying with his uncle. The plane started moving with a sudden jerk. It rolled down to the end of the runway. Then it began its run. I could see everything rushing past the window. The park where I used to come with my friends, watch the planes take off and land. And now I was in one of those planes! The wheels left the tarmac with a bang, and I could feel that bang inside my heart. I had left the land where I was born, where I grew up, where I played. I looked down. The glittering city lights were disappearing fast from my view. Suddenly it was all dark. I looked away from the window, closed my eyes, and felt the first tears rolling down my cheeks.