20 New Gloom (1/2)

It wasn't a long flight, but for a sore leg, there is no such thing as a kind locomotive. Madonna and me together for two and a half hours in a flying metal tube.

I was living a dream.

If only we could afford something with whiskey on it. I guess it didn't matter, because Mad sleeping on my shoulder while holding on to my hand was equally delightful.

We were standing in the middle of the Kathmandu International. With me was a woman with a leg brace and one briefcase. I was crazy to let Mad go to China all on her own. Even when I knew she was fresh off the bed with a serious injury. The day she returned home, her strength to stand up was gone. Her whole body was trembling with fever. The first thing she said before passing out in my arms was 'Mission complete'.

I was looking at this dolt who was sweating profusely next to me. Her disheveled hair was tied in a single pony and her black jumpsuit was equally drenched.

”Kyo, can you go to departure and get an auto rickshaw or taxi ready for us? I'll follow you slowly with the luggage.” She said while glancing into the horizon.

I couldn't reply to her stubbornness and tenacity to complete her mission.

And it was all for me.

She started turning her head towards me. Before she could, I just had an urge to kiss her and embrace her in myself. I quickly bent over and kissed her sweaty cheek. Before she could say anything, I ran away from her. I didn't want her to see the face I was making.

I guess stepping in this country did unearth some memories, pleasant and awful, that were better off as a dot in distance. They made me who I am.

Those memories shaped me for what I would become.

This country wrecked my life, and the girl I ran away from reconstructed it from ground up.

Did I have love for Nepal?

I neared the glass door while reminiscing everything that had happened between me and Madonna House. Luckily, I spotted an empty taxi right outside and flailed my arms to attract the driver's attention. He became aware of his potential customers and exited the car. I asked him to follow me so that he could help us with our luggage, and I could give a hand to Mad. The driver had the door open for us, so I put Mad into the taxi and told the driver to wait.

I had to get to a washroom. I had to prepare myself for what was about to be a piece of my lover.

I had to be in right mind space to listen to everything. And I had to know that it was not going to be pleasant.

Neither to me, not to my wife.

I entered the airport washroom and dashed to one of the stall.

What was so painful about it?

Was the fact that I was coming in contact to Madonna as she was?

Or was every fear inside me, and this situation was it a normal phenomenon?

Whatever it was, it was giving me a nasty heartache.

I came out of the stall and looked at myself in the mirror. What I saw was a face full of mixed emotions. It is NOTa big deal, I tried to assure myself.

I splashed water on my face to wake myself up from this melodramatic sleep I had slipped into.

Kiyomi Anicrow, you are a survivor. Don't let something like this scare the pants off of you.