Part 3: A Tale of Reunited Memories

One of these days, on a weekend, there was a sudden plan to visit a destination – Gar Panchkot. My mother planned the one-day trip and then told us. We were a bit anxious and wary of the plan with the temperature going off the chart. But, when the house matron plans something, you ought to follow that. 

We were to travel on a Saturday and return the next day. We left mid-morning with my father on the wheels. We had a journey of 2 hours ahead of us via NH 19, but time just flew. 

Recently turned into a popular tourist location, Garpanchkot is in the foothills of the Panchet Hills in Purulia. It is famous for its ruined fort and boasts utter peace and tranquillity. It is known for its scenic beauty in the backdrop of the mighty hills.

The road to Gar Panchkot kept unfurling, winding its way through the occasional countryside filled with lush greenery. Right after Asansol, the scenery transformed. From the occasional glimpse of rural life, the natural beauty was now at every turn. The raw appeal of the rural Bengal revealed a new facet of the countryside’s charm. Soon, we could see a green tapestry of rolling hills and verdant fields stretching afar. 

Our stay for the night was at a resort with a view of the hill and a dense forest surrounding us. It was situated away from the actual village; hence, the silence added to the surroundings. That evening, the five of us spent driving around the nearby dam and the humble market and just roamed around the area. Back at the resort, there was still some time for dinner. We sang, chatted about random things, laughed, and sometimes just contemplated passing away the time. After dinner, we retired to bed with our tired bodies, revisiting the simple but happy evening we just spent. The following day came soon, and it was time to leave. 

My flight back to Delhi was after a day. On the morning of my departure, I woke up but lay in bed for some time, looking at the fan. I realised I was not sad that I was supposed to leave today. If anything, my heart was full, and I had no slightest tinge of sadness. These few days passed in a blink, but it was indeed a magnificent and satisfying homecoming. 

My flight was from Durgapur Airport, Kabi Nazrul Islam Airport. In my experience of many airports, this was the tiniest one. Even after being told many times regarding the size of the airport, I still failed to believe it until I saw it. After getting dropped off by my family, I looked at the building. It would be wrong of me to call it a building; it was more of a huge glass box with a door and a few separate sections inside. 

The sections were simple—one for scanning the check-in luggage, one for getting the boarding pass, and then a security check section. Though the airport's operation had quite a few questionable aspects, one can still forgive the loopholes, given that it is mostly new. 

Anyway, my flight took off on time, and the trip ended, but again, and for the first time, I didn’t feel homesick on landing in Delhi.

Sometimes, we don’t realise how much these visits mean to the people waiting for us back home. But this time, I got to see it from a different perspective, devoid of any disagreements. After a long time, I stayed with a family who was just happy and extremely satisfied to be united after a long time.