When you de---part

The first departure/farewell like a first kiss or a first taste of betrayal is vividly remembered.

The first time I encountered the concept of  a farewell was when I was six.  It was the end of one of those annual summer vacations. It was an afternoon, summer rain -washed Indian railways platform. Besides passengers, stray dogs occupied the uneven, cemented floors and honey bees used the impoverished waiting room. I focused on the blurred poster hung above the restaurant...it had a half torn picture of a plate laden with tasty chicken..I wondered if there had been eggs on the missing half.

While I tried to surmise, I was aware of the quiet sadness in my seven year old cousin. To be exact, I think he was less sad and more apprehensive. Together we watched the railway track strewn with half smoldered cigars, since it was the easiest to watch apart from the well rounded knees of our aunts.

"we didn't finish the checkers" I said wistfully but he gazed at his almost old walker shoes as if he hardly heard me.

I guess boys do that when they don't want girls to know 'Boys do cry'.

So to help him think I never noticed the tears, I began to count the wagons..."one..three"...He winced at the gap of an uncounted number but I ignore it and we mathematically shift our grief to rusted wagons that whizzed by.

Finally the real train puffs in.I sense his feet edge closer to mine and feel his little hands tighten over my mickey mouse bag. I was woman enough to mask my emotions well or maybe I was glutton enough to still focus on the half torn picture of a food poster. I let him strap my bag on my shoulders and I pretended I didn't hear his sad quietness snap into a stifled sob.I learnt the art of goodbye that moment, when  a seven year old boy strapped a bag to the unturned shoulders of  a six year old girl. I understood a goodbye is easy if you don't turn around, if you make it quick and quiet.

Across the years, I almost perfect the art of quick, quiet goodbyes.

Then, I meet a stranger who teaches me the art of difficult goodbyes. He walks away with such quick steps after wishing my journey well.

So quick, his words drown in the din of footsteps, so quick he hardly notices the difficulty.