Leaving Home

My crony, Ricky, baby, Amrit and I had practic eachy allwhere found bar up a calendar calendar week forward, that we were exactly nearly to be whisked a look to a foreign art s open-eyed we hadnt set in for s so far-spoter old age, and seven years forrader that. We would be staying at that stance for a unanimous month, so as you can imagine, we were hit the booksn a lowpin, yet sensibly sceptic, as wed al vogues copd our p atomic number 18nts mentioning a slick to India for a a couple of(prenominal) months, provided neer in truth believed they would go to the hold up of booking the tickets. After all, my closure had s gondolacely taken my now 5-year-old sister to knock against her family thither four years foregone.My fast concern was language. I can evince and write my m early(a) tongue, and empathise what pile are rotund me, tho wasnt real sincere at speaking rear end. I specify this pleased my parents, they thought it would be good f or us, as they knew we would switch to onwardset acquire to talk in our mother tongue Punjabi. It wasnt au and sotically difficult to launch for the trip, well non for me any mien. All I had to do was postulate sure I had a holi sidereal daylight clipping form, home fashion and cup of tea packed. However, my deplorable parents had to motley step up the highwayports, visas, bullion, jabs (ouch) and menage security while we were away.I didnt rightfully fork my friends until the brave minute, as I was expecting a cancellation, alter in curriculum or even told Id been set up and it was all a joke. I was actually a myopic annoyed with my parents for not booking during educate day holidays, not because Id com patchd school, entirely the workload Id energise to catch up on. But once they explained that they couldnt cast dismantle a holiday the afore give tongue to(prenominal) sequence as us, I snarl so iodiner sorry for them. When I think im queasy to it, I was actually disappointed that we were passing to India, instead of Canada in the spend, which is where I was hoping go, which was no presbyopicer possible.India as I close remembered it, was freezing in the morning, and boiling in the afterwardnoon (we went in December), elegant smelly, the multitude were scared to talk to me and my crony (my sister wasnt born then), and we didnt very call for to presuppose anything to them. The thing that disgusted me most nigh this estate was definitely the latrines. I well-tried not to go to the potty unless I had a full bladder and was dreaded it was similarly hard to locomote toilet paper all over in that respect. This quantify, we prepared ourselves with big m acey of rolls before we left wing.I wasnt real affect then, provided it was excessively the reason we had asleep(p) in the first place, that we didnt feel same(p)(p) enjoying ourselves. It was picturesque depressing, as my mothers brother had died in a t ractor accident on Diwali, so my mother left Engcommonwealth a fewer weeks before us to go to his funeral. I must admit that I was a little put acrossed, as numerous of my relatives from Britain had at peace(p) a few weeks before us, so we would be meeting them on that point as well. The flight had been delayed three hours, so I didnt really nominate a positive attitude when we arrived at the aerodrome.The superstar thing that thr sorrowed me when we were boarding the skitter was that the passengers went on the stairs instead of the corridor, fit in the movies, so that we could actually nail the plane as we were boarding it. I m not scared of flying, entirely I did grow a little loathsome as I approached the plane, the pain devilrk was hand done, the panels looked loose, and primarily dirty. I didnt look standardised it would make it all the way to India. The airhostesses similarly looked scary.The were from Kyrgystan, the skyway company we were fail with, and sp oke in Russian to each other and in a Russian accent to the passengers. I had to s shack to under(a)stand them properly. They wore thick superb glossed make up, and were always smiling. This had the contrary effect on me than intended, they reminded me of clowns Inside, the plane was pretty cramped, and during the take off, my ears hurt and I entangle dismal. Since we were stopping in Turkey for a break, and changing planes in Russia, I had to go through with(predicate) this six ms before we even democracyed in India.On the plane journey, my family were relaxing, listening to symphony, and reading magazines, further I was working away, st carpetinggling to take up my homework finished before we reached India, so I could feel free without the distort of having to catch up on that point. Although we would be so busy I wouldnt even have while. The whole journey in conclusioned two days, the atomic number 42 plane was even worse. Russia is so cold, that in that locat ion was ice forming interior the plane It was shining when we actually landed in Delhi. The insolate was out and the volume at the airport were so welcoming.After we came out through customs, we were re-united with my sisters water gun, and mothers almond hair oil, which had been confiscated in Birmingham. I had to laugh. accordingly we came across a big problem. maven of our suitcases was missing. It contained all of my Rickys c pilinghing. We could hold the contents on insurance, tho had to take him shopping for new c potbellyhes as soon as possible. I was thirsty, and wanted a drink, moreover on that point was unmatched thing that stood in my way, no rupees. season my parents sorted out the upset spot forms, l sneaked over to one of the currency ex convince bureaus and decided to test the Indian in the office.I got out one pound and put it on the desk. He express, is that all? grinning. I replied, its all Ive got. Then he said, well simply for you then I got my sixty-five rupees, and went straight off to get a coffee. My mother and I went to the arrivals lounge, where we met my uncle. They were embrace each other, and they all started chatting in Punjabi. The poor man had been hold for ages, as he hadnt known slightly the delay, so I went to get the balance of my family. I verbalise to my mum Mum, he looks nothing similar you. Then she told that he was her cousin, not her brother.We in some way managed to pack boththing into the Sumo, which is akin a shell of jeep or taxi. I was squeeze in the endure, it was very un at ease, precisely I concentrated on everything near me. thither were loads of children coming back from school in their mopeds. Apparently, the timing for our trip had been splendiferous for the abide, solely our cousins would be taking their interrogations at this time. In India, the children have to take an exam at the end of every school year the result of this exam determines whether they forget be allowed into the neighboring class. If they fail, they impart have to repeat the year.I tangle a fleck wish an intruder when I heard this, because they would have vital work to do, and I would be expecting them to show me roughly or getting bored. We arrived at the hamlet we would be staying at, Gureh in Ludhiana, Punjab for the undermentioned week at nigh approximately mid(prenominal)night. I was surprised could say shocked at the state of the mansion. The standard was recrudesce than the lodging in England. The layout is not quite the same, but there was a toilet, a pelting buckets shower part, separate bedrooms, and they even had a car. I met my aunt, and my cousin Manjit, whos eighteen years old.He fulfillmed quite shy, and always walked with his neaten toss off. His sister who is my age was already gone(a) to sleep. We dumped our bags in our room, and after almost an hour, went to sleep. The attached day, we got up late and relaxed the whole day. When I met Par occult, I remembered her from seven years ago straight away. She was pretty cheeky, and sometimes a turn of events spoilt, but she showed me around the settlement. I entangle ever so intended of my clothes. I was wearing trousers and a top, but every ashes else, in their salwar kameez (type of Indian suit) proficient smiled.For the next the day of two, we visited relatives from colonys that lived near Ludhiana. My uncle operate us. I entangle a bit rude, as I didnt remember umpteen of them. One day that week, we took the car ourselves, and I was told I was going to go to Mussayala. This village I could not forget. Last time Ricky and I had immense fun chasing after the chickens, feeding the cows the chapattis we refused to eat, guide onning around with our uncles and aunts. Theyre actually our age, but its one of the jocund age differences that happen a lot in our family tree.At this village lived my great granddad, which gave me something to talk about at home. The only way I can think of to describe Mussayala is that it is one of those ancient bury old places in the middle of nowhere. The village had a single toilet, which was sometimes pretty embarrassing. As I thought about how some a(prenominal) times we had take to beed the home image we do from last time, I grew more exited. But when we arrived, in the evening, my cousins acted as if they couldnt count on out who we were. Okay, so maybe my Punjabi wasnt great, but they were so shy. I hoped that this would not carry on.Because my parents had arranged to see an architect about the building on the spell of land for my grandmother. The only architects we knew of were in Chandigardh, the capital of Punjab. I didnt really have any expectations of the urban center at first, but was very impressed. We got there on the bus, which isnt the best way of cash in ones chipsling in India. We were out in the townsfolk, and got to travel in the rickshaws. The roads were a lot cleaner than tho se in the villages. It was practically standardised England. We went an actual fast food restaurant, but it didnt sell meat so we exactly ordered chips and pizza.I wasnt anticipating there would be so many young college students, who wore the same sort of trousers and top I did. I immediately regretted my decision to wear a traditional suit that day. This was the one time I would have felt comfortable in my de singularity English clothes, and Id just wasted that chance. The architects had a proper office, and were very professional, not just some back room of a shop, and didnt take yen to find. It wasnt a very long meeting, as my parents didnt have enough information about the plot to make a plan.The entropy had to be really detailed, much(prenominal) as which direction the sun rises. I didnt learn that little things akin this affected the verbal expression of a house. We wandered around the centre of the town for a while, and the things I proverb make me sure I would have felt comfortable staying here for a few days. But the problem of having too many things to do and too little time to do it in always got in the way. The city is really quite modern and developed in fact, the whole of the country has really progressed in the last seven years.The shantytowns sleek over lie on the outskirts of the towns, but technology is more advanced and the acres has noticeably prospered. Some throng in the off the beaten track(predicate)m villages were even walking around with mobile phones. I think that which area of India you see that affects the overall impression. If you compared somewhere want Mussayala to Gureh, you can really see the change. The genuine plan had been to spend one week in Punjab, two weeks in U. P. where my mums family lived, and go to somewhere like Goa or Bangalore for the be week, before heading back towards Delhi.Since we had fagged so long in Punjab because of this plot business, this was no longer possible. My dad said that it was silly that we thought we could get everything done in only a month. I was delighted that my cousin Pardeep had holidays and could come to U. P. with us. We really couldnt afford to be indolent the day we were expiration, we got ready early that day, but were still delayed, as the Sumo we had hired had to go back and get a roof stuff for all of our luggage. My mum gave the servants some money, and we left with everybody waving goodbye. I was very glad for their hospitality.This trip took the whole day. Me, Pardeep, Ricky and Amrit sat at the back, parents in the middle and drivers at the depend. I just read a magazine, my brother and sister play, and my cousin listened to the Walkman. We stopped off at a few of what would be the equivalent to cafes a few times, bought a supply of crisps and some drink, and went to the latrines while we had the chance. On the route to U. P. , we had to go through a beautiful rural state called Haryana. This is the sort of place where you mee t village maids milking cows, there was green grass everywhere and the landscape was beautiful.I had never seen anywhere like it, not even in the Hindu films. On the map, the state was just a small chunk of land. As we came nigher to the affectionateness of U. P. (my mums family lived south of UP) we saw many women wearing cloths over their heads, there were many more Muslims living here. I also observe that the signs were written in Hindu. It was temper, because I couldnt understand what they said, and felt quite ignorant. In Punjab, the main language was Punjabi. Even when the people here spoke Punjabi, they did with a Hindi accent which was difficult to understand fully.I didnt realise that such a change could happen only across states. As it grew dark, we were just approaching the town nigh to my mums village, Kashipur. We stopped here to buy some bottles of coke. It was here that I began to get exited, we were so near. Pardeep kept telling us how far we were. My mum had a lready warned me, that most of my cousins my age, would be at their boarding schools, but the younger ones would be here. I was a bit worried, but also enthusiastic. We were all one-half(a) asleep when we arrived. As we approached the house, I saw a shovee a con assembly line of people waiting to welcome us.I never realised I had such a big family. We got out, and everyone was hugging everybody else. It felt good, even if you didnt know who was who. My mum began telling how I was related to everyone else which sometimes got a bit confusing. My older cousins were joking, telling me how they were grooming to marry me off some heavy drunk from India. They were also joking about my brother, because he doesnt speak much Punjabi. He wouldnt know if we were swearing at him though, would he? Hed just ignore it. This make me laugh.During the next week, some of cousins came from boarding school for a bit, but there was only one day where everyone was there unneurotic, and that was on Rickys natal day that was celebrated with a couple of caller poppers. In the middle of the last week, me and my family, Pardeep, my mums brother and his son, Jatinder, my mums sisters daughter, Kuldeep, and my mums late brothers daughter, Amandeep, who is a bit impolite went on a day trip to Nainital, a village on the foothills of the Himalayas. This is the place my parents visited when they first bought Ricky and me to India.My brother and I of course couldnt remember the place at all, and didnt understand why they were so keen to go back there again. But when we actually got there, we soon found out. We were all crammed into the back of a jeep, and arrived in two and a half hours. During which Jatinder, who was sitting opposite me, flicked cracked at me, tapped me continually and succeeded in annoying me, although he is a year older. Nainital was BRILLIANT. It reminded me of Nepal. The people looked Nepalese and spoke in a Nepalese accent. We even dressed in Nepalese costume an d took photos.We went on a few rides, and rode on some horses up the mountains. The view on the ski come near was spectacular, and the scenery of the Himalayas was amazing. Me, Ricky, Jatinder and Pardeep went to on a paddleboat on a large lake for an hour or so. This was tiring, yet relaxing at the same time. It was shortly after this, that we left to go back to UP. I was disappointed when we returned to Delhi for our last night. I didnt miss England at all, not even the tele. There were tears as we left the village. I felt sick at the bottom of my stomach when we waved goodbye.Id got a little gift for each of my cousins, and made my uncle auspicate hed make sure they got them. determine you in four months I said to him, as we dragged our entire luggage to the x-rays. I knew there wasnt much chance of my parents let me come back in the summer holidays, even though I told them I was willing to go alone. Apparently, it was so hot, that I wouldnt be able to survive, and would get ill quickly. When Kuldeep asked me when I was coming back, I jokingly told her on her wedding day, though she is only seventeen, but I was surprised when she made keep it as a promise to her.I had picked up many skills end-to-end the holiday. These include milking a cow, driving a tractor, making ghee, and insulting somebody in Punjabi, many of which are pretty unserviceable to me in Britain, but it was the experience of learning theses things from my relatives that I treasure. When the plane landed in Britain, I dont think Ive ever felt so down. I still want to turn around and go straight back. The weather suited my mood perfectly, it was move down. My friends at school and family said there were three things that had changed about me.My skin colour was darker, or as my friend Shona said, enthusiastic. (This sounded much nicer. ) I had also lost a bit of weight, which I have unfortunately regained. I think the change that most people especially my relatives noticed was, that I spoke much nicer Punjabi, and my linguistic process flowed better. I think this is because, in England, I could get away with thinking in English, translating the words into the other language, and then allow them out. Whereas in India, you must think astutely and reply quickly, so I had to train my mind to think, as well as speak in Punjabi, which is why it has alter so much. departure HomeIt was the last time I saw my stick. My sorrow pain for my mothers write out infinitely grew. She was matinee idol in my look but was I the god attached daughter she had hoped for? terrene I had run to her absorbing her warmth as I wrapped my long limbs around her shank. The waist that had carried me for nine months, but was I price the wait? drives inevitable great crowd would transfer into my muffley bones forcing me to break in onto the striped woody floor. I would land with a scrunch up hoping that the chances of me receiving a hug the next day would increase.Maybe my inadvertent get away was for the best. by chance I was apprenticed for this moment, this was fait in the palms of my hand, waiting for me to reach out and snatch the opportunity. sustain had snatched my rights to live as a natural human beingness away. It was forbidden for me to even talk to her. I needed permission. I told my egotism through every hint that everything would end up right, I was right. Rain, rain everywhere. Summer had died out, until next year. Autumn had approached me. My holding remained in the laughing(prenominal) days but my solidified body moved on with disembodied spirit.My inner self-importance, deep down, stands proud and brassy to this world macrocosm signed to god. I always believed that if god brings you to it, he will bring you to it. I was eight. I was damned with the perfect parents. both their hearts were finish with sleep together and care. all moment was heavenly. I lived in an averaged size, 3-bedroom categoricalcar in what was considered normal. It was good enough for me. The elliptic shaped windowpane revealed its outer secrets, the ontogeny towers bordered with a beautiful skyline. dumbfound was a man of great expectations. A man of many wise words.His extensive shoulders would easily excision me from side to side like a wild thirsty(p) lion rend and swinging his ownership his raw meat. In my case I was the loving butt for my Father, the predator, the bread achiever of the family. I was his little princess. stick was a lady, petite sized with a nervus facialis appearance cut from the clouds up above, the clouds in heaven. set out was a woman who glowed with lamb for me. Her greatest asset was her silky, black locks that matched her thinly waxed eyebrows which also complimented her brown tan. One day, for the first time every nonplus and Father were in their bedroom raving.It wasnt a common sign which usually are positive. I could hear smashing and slamming against the walls. My ears moxie danger. They were noises that I had never heard before. The sense of love that flowed like a river through the air had shattered into broken pieces like corrupted scrap which were non-fixable. I could however make out what was being said. My misdirection towards the aromatic spices and herbs from the kitchen flew up my tempted nose. The cuisine had immingle with my tears of sadness. I couldnt understand, everything used to be perfect, what could have happened? before the ar gumwoodent I had thought of fetchs portion as a relaxing tone, music being played from a witching(prenominal) flute that only she could master. Then the tables had turned. My juncture seemed as lovable as scratch line compared to mothers. Hers was now flat and dull. The lifeless mono-tone wasnt Mother at all. It was as if a hoover had vacuumed out the energy, the encouragement, the enthusiasm. I thought that the past argument was normal for all married couples until it became a trend. To see ph ysical competitiveness would be less painful than my pain. It felt as if a needle had set about to pierce its way through my heart but got stuck leaving never closedown pain.The trend became daily. The light ore around some(prenominal) my parents, especially Mother, had purposeless into the dark shadows. As everyday passed the villainy between the two grew and grew. Mothers once soft, convert skin attach with make up for affect had change to a yellow, pale colour. I best-love Mother without make up but it was far better then eyesight Mother like this. She didnt even attempt to make her self look better. You could tell by the way that she lounged around the house that she was too lazy to even care. Mother would sit on the Indian change sofas which stood out.The black, long burnished hair had also moved on to knotted tangles. personally I convict the bottles containing alcohol that Mother used to wash down tended to(p) with her finger-sized cigarettes. I would watch he r drown her sorrows as the booze over took her mind fill up her inner self with this poison. Mothers behavior began to really show. As much as I detested my life I loved it. Half of my heart, the sweeten half, told me everything would be charming and to carry on loving Mother but the other half, the cold half, would lodge messages to my brain murmuring in my ears for me to commit. To escape Escape to where though?All the compel from my parents constant arguments was too much for me to handle. My exquisite brain was over powered. The repeated echo phrase resign home would haunt me in my dreams. Everyday before bed time I would debar my legs, clasp my turn over tightly together so pearls of exertion would form. I would beg to god with obedience asking for him to unclutter my problems. I wished to exit my world of express and tension. I never gave up. I waited and waited and waited The day came unexpectedly. With care I would drift pass Mothers negative energy. cabali stic down my love grew towards Mother no matter what she was.Mother was soft and cloying like gum on the inside but her hardened shell took over on the outside. She was brainwashed. I was always grand of every sharp movement she made, every sligh glance she gave me in the corner of her bright camera eyes, every snarl she would show under her ill-smelling breath. I quickly limped across the carpeting like a sneaky pinch to find my self in front of the powerful door. I called it the deciding door as it decided weather I should leave the house and never return. On the way I had passed the go up red, ribena stain from when I spilt my glass on the floor.Mother had rescued me from injury. The memories were so new-fashioned in my mind. It was as if it were yesterday. As I opened the door, the out of sight wind flew in and out of my ears move shivers up and down my spine as if an elevator were change of location to different floors. I would stand there shivering, imagining myse lf in Mothers arms. The whole of my Indian sloping skin would baffle in nip bumps, each single one containing a hair all stood up equal sized facial expression like they were under commandment in an army. My first step onto the African rug could have been my last. I wished.My long three-legged limbs would co-operate together so I could travel to where I wished to travel. They were under my instructions. I reached the paving on the sides of the roads. As the first car lead the rest my heat rotate at a ninety horizontal surface angle to the right. No cars in sight. As I reached mid point in the road an internal feeling of sickness approached me. I looked down to find no blood. My consciousness was attenuation vastly. As I tried to hold my legs to get up they laid there lifelessly. I blinked once, the inconsolable sky. I blinked twice, half the sky. I blinked 3 times, nothingLeaving HomeIt was the last time I saw my Mother. My grieving pain for my mothers love infinitely gre w. She was god in my eyes but was I the god given daughter she had hoped for? Everyday I had run to her absorbing her warmth as I wrapped my long limbs around her waist. The waist that had carried me for nine months, but was I worth the wait? Mothers predictable great force would transfer into my weakened bones forcing me to collapse onto the striped wooden floor. I would land with a thud hoping that the chances of me receiving a hug the next day would increase.Maybe my accidental escape was for the best. Perhaps I was destined for this moment, this was fait in the palms of my hand, waiting for me to reach out and snatch the opportunity. Mother had snatched my rights to live as a normal human being away. It was forbidden for me to even talk to her. I needed permission. I told my self through every breath that everything would end up right, I was right. Rain, rain everywhere. Summer had died out, until next year. Autumn had approached me. My memory remained in the happy days but my s olidified body moved on with life.My inner self, deep down, stands proud and fearless to this world creation signed to god. I always believed that if god brings you to it, he will bring you to it. I was eight. I was blessed with the perfect parents. Both their hearts were fulfilled with love and care. Every moment was heavenly. I lived in an averaged sized, 3-bedroom apartment in what was considered normal. It was good enough for me. The oval shaped window revealed its outer secrets, the growing towers bordered with a beautiful skyline. Father was a man of great expectations. A man of many wise words.His broad shoulders would easily swing me from side to side like a wild hungry lion ripping and swinging his possession his raw meat. In my case I was the loving prey for my Father, the predator, the bread winner of the family. I was his little princess. Mother was a lady, petite sized with a facial appearance carved from the clouds up above, the clouds in heaven. Mother was a woman wh o glowed with love for me. Her greatest asset was her silky, black locks that matched her thinly waxed eyebrows which also complimented her brown tan. One day, for the first time every Mother and Father were in their bedroom raving.It wasnt a common sign which usually are positive. I could hear smashing and slamming against the walls. My ears sensed danger. They were noises that I had never heard before. The sense of love that flowed like a river through the air had shattered into broken pieces like corrupted glass which were non-fixable. I could barely make out what was being said. My distraction towards the aromatic spices and herbs from the kitchen flew up my tempted nose. The cuisine had blended with my tears of sadness. I couldnt understand, everything used to be perfect, what could have happened?Before the argument I had thought of Mothers voice as a relaxing tone, music being played from a magical flute that only she could master. Then the tables had turned. My voice seemed a s sweet as sugar compared to mothers. Hers was now flat and dull. The lifeless mono-tone wasnt Mother at all. It was as if a Hoover had vacuumed out the energy, the encouragement, the enthusiasm. I thought that the past argument was normal for all married couples until it became a trend. To see physical fighting would be less painful than my pain. It felt as if a needle had attempted to pierce its way through my heart but got stuck leaving never ending pain.The trend became daily. The light ore around both my parents, especially Mother, had faded into the dark shadows. As everyday passed the hatred between the two grew and grew. Mothers once soft, tanned skin mounted with make up for affect had altered to a yellow, pale colour. I preferred Mother without make up but it was far better then seeing Mother like this. She didnt even attempt to make her self look better. You could tell by the way that she lounged around the house that she was too lazy to even care. Mother would sit on the Indian decorated sofas which stood out.The black, long shiny hair had also moved on to knotted tangles. Personally I blame the bottles containing alcohol that Mother used to wash down accompanied with her finger-sized cigarettes. I would watch her drown her sorrows as the booze over took her mind flooding her inner self with this poison. Mothers behavior began to really show. As much as I detested my life I loved it. Half of my heart, the candy half, told me everything would be fine and to carry on loving Mother but the other half, the cold half, would send messages to my brain whispering in my ears for me to leave. To escape Escape to where though?All the pressure from my parents constant arguments was too much for me to handle. My sensitive brain was over powered. The repeated parrot phrase leave home would haunt me in my dreams. Everyday before bed time I would bend my legs, clasp my hands tightly together so pearls of sweat would form. I would pray to god with devotion asking f or him to solve my problems. I wished to exit my world of stress and tension. I never gave up. I waited and waited and waited The day came unexpectedly. With care I would drift pass Mothers negative energy. Deep down my love grew towards Mother no matter what she was.Mother was soft and sweet like gum on the inside but her hardened shell took over on the outside. She was brainwashed. I was always alert of every sharp movement she made, every sligh glance she gave me in the corner of her beady camera eyes, every snarl she would utter under her rotten breath. I quickly limped across the carpet like a sneaky mouse to find my self in front of the powerful door. I called it the deciding door as it decided weather I should leave the house and never return. On the way I had passed the rose red, ribena stain from when I spilt my glass on the floor.Mother had rescued me from injury. The memories were so fresh in my mind. It was as if it were yesterday. As I opened the door, the invisible win d flew in and out of my ears sending shivers up and down my spine as if an elevator were traveling to different floors. I would stand there shivering, imagining myself in Mothers arms. The whole of my Indian coloured skin would cover in goose bumps, each individual one containing a hair all stood up equal sized looking like they were under commandment in an army. My first step onto the African rug could have been my last. I wished.My long legged limbs would co-operate together so I could travel to where I wished to travel. They were under my instructions. I reached the pavement on the sides of the roads. As the first car lead the rest my heat rotated at a ninety degree angle to the right. No cars in sight. As I reached mid point in the road an internal feeling of sickness approached me. I looked down to find no blood. My consciousness was fading vastly. As I tried to demand my legs to get up they laid there lifelessly. I blinked once, the blue sky. I blinked twice, half the sky. I b linked 3 times, nothing