What I still carry with me today

The journeys I have made over these 12 years are innumerable. My mom would tell me that I was an infant who started my journey on the 20th day after I was born. Since then I have made many trips in and out of the country. Some trips have been completely erased off from my memory. But some, I will never forget.

I have long had the desire to fly alone. I have done all my travels with my mom. I often wonder what a trip without mummy would be like. I had such an opportunity recently. But I got the opportunity in one of the most dangerous times.

It was 2020. I was then studying in a school in Kanyakumari district, in Tamilnadu’s border with the state of Kerala in South India. The school I attended had very few foreign students and the majority were local students. I stayed at the hostel there.

In 2019, we were facing the biggest crisis due to the Easter Sunday bomb blast in Sri Lanka. We were living in Sri Lanka then. My mother was facing a major security crisis at the time because she was a writer and social thinker. Despite her troubles, she acted immediately. She enrolled me in a boarding school in India for a short time. My mother and I traveled to India together. After enrolling me in the new school and dropping me off in the hostel, she traveled to the United States for a three months residential program.

As I understand, these were all temporary arrangements to protect us. However, the experience made me very sad. I broke up with my mother for the first time. I could not focus on my studies. I couldn’t read books so fluently as before. Those were very sad days. But my mother talked to me every day. Our conversations were the only solace that comforted me. I waited for her call. She kept advising me that we should go through this tragedy together. She wrote me a lot of letters and the letters reached me via email and post.

Three months later, my mother returned home from America. She did not come to India and take me home as I expected. She said the country was still not as stable as we had hoped and that it would be safe for me to stay in India for a while longer. She traveled to Thailand.

I remember very well. On January 2, 2020, a classmate of mine came with a mask. I looked at him in amazement. He had a sanitizer in his hands. He was often washing his hands. I thought he was sick of something.

I asked him,
“Why are you wearing a mask?”
He said,
“the Covid-19 virus has spread from China to all other countries. My parents told me that the Covid virus can affect India too.”

That was the day I first heard the word Covid -19. I also guessed that he had received these instructions in advance because his mother was a doctor.

The depression I had earlier increased now. I was worried about my mother. I was afraid that she would be affected by the Covid -19 virus because she was on a series of trips. I mentioned this on the phone with my mother that day. She repeated, “Don’t worry about me. My only consolation is that you are safe in a safe place.”

At the same time, she told me about the impact of the Covid- 19 virus and how it is taking human lives without mercy. My mom said that there was Covid- 19 virus outbreak in Thailand as well. She explained to me the importance of maintaining social distance, wearing a face mask, and cleaning my hands frequently, and asked me to follow them as much as possible. Avoiding going out unnecessarily can significantly reduce its spread, she said.

I don’t go anywhere outside. If I go out, I have to get permission from the school principal and the hostel manager. The request for permission should be made in writing, in advance. I was imprisoned within the school premises because of these conditions. I had no way of knowing what was going on in the outside world. Our hostel does not even have a TV to watch the news. Although my mom was in Thailand at the time, she continued to talk to me. She continued to talk to the school principal and my class teachers. She was very much concerned about my safety.

Then one morning at the assembly our principal spoke about the spread of the Coronavirus. He spoke about how we should take precautions. But all the information he told us was something my mother knew in advance. I could not even sleep peacefully. I was drowning in my own thoughts. Our school students, hostellers and teachers had interesting conversations about the Covid virus. I also attended them. I wanted to know more about this virus- to search and read. I have a laptop. But the school administration and hostel management did not allow it to be used. So my mother took my laptop. I don’t even have a smart cell phone. I really missed these. I quickly became disgusted with this prison-like hostel life that blocked the avenues for my search.

One day my mom called me and said,
“The Indian government and people do not seem to have taken the Coronavirus seriously. They will only believe if people there start to die. I think you should return home.”
“Will you come and pick me up, Mom?”
I was really shocked when she said “no”.
“Who will take me?”
“Son, listen carefully to what I say. Now no one is going to travel and that is not air travel safety. This is a risk. Sri Lanka is in danger of closing its international borders soon. You have to go to Sri Lanka alone.”

Will this be the opportunity for the solo flight I have long dreamed of? These are very dangerous times. It is our duty to protect ourselves and we must face them. I slowly began to prepare myself.

My school principal convinced my mother that there was no coronavirus spread here and that there was no need to worry. But my mother’s decision was strong, to send me home. My mother gave me three days to prepare and pack my luggage. She told me that a friend of hers would come to the school, pick me up and drop me off at the airport. She said she had just booked the ticket online.

On March 15, 2020, my mother had booked my flight to Colombo alone, online.
As per her instructions, on March 14, 2020, her friend Meeran Maitheen came to pick me up at my school. I have already met Meeran Maitheen. My mother used to say he was a very good writer. He is a good man. He would talk to me very kindly.

My friends were really confused by these hasty decisions. They almost cried as they gathered in the schoolyard to send me on my way. They asked if I would come back or not. I didn’t know the answer. Meeran Maitheen Uncle asked me to pose for photos with my friends and took pictures. He met the principal, talked with him and took a photo too. He sent all the pictures and wrote everything that happened on WhatsApp to my mother minute by minute.

My passport was with Jeba Akka, who works in the Kalachchuvadu Publication office. My mother had given some of the important documents, including my passport, to her friend Jeba Akka. Meeran Maitheen Uncle had received them in advance from Jeba Akka. On this trip, I could not meet Jeba Akka who used to visit me often at the hostel and cook very tasty food for me and take care of me.

I stayed at Meeran Maitheen Uncle’s house that night. The taste buds of my tongue, which had long since gone numb from the hostel food, came alive from the delicious food that night and I enjoyed it. Despite the fear of going on a plane on my own early the next morning, the thoughts of leaving the hostel brought me peace.

Meeran Maitheen uncle woke me up early in the morning to take me to the Thiruvananthapuram airport. I already knew we had to leave the house by 3 am.
On the way to the airport, we had to go to Sukumaran Uncle’s house. He is a poet and writer; my mother’s well-known friend. Uncle Sukumaran had gone to the SriLankan Airlines office in Thiruvananthapuram the day before and collected a special form for children under 16 to travel by air.

I have known Sukumaran uncle since my childhood. I have stayed at his house several times, for several days. I have traveled by train with him. I have played. But I could not talk to him when he was waiting for us at the door in the early hours of the morning. I did not know about this arrangement before. My mother never told me anything about meeting Sukumaran uncle on the way. I only remember what he said, “Take care.” In the dark, I could not even see his face properly. I saw him through the windshield of the car.

My flight was at 7 am. We arrived at the airport around 5 am. The airports were not as bustling as they usually are.

I had reached the end of my dream of traveling by plane alone. There were so many difficulties, fears, expectations and despair behind this journey. But in the end it happened, my longstanding wish. I was treated with foreknowledge about traveling alone. The flight attendants helped me, treated me very kindly and respectfully. The flight attendants often observed me wearing a mask and washing my hands.

The airport and the planes I had seen so many times before, looked different to my eyes now. I really enjoyed watching them. In just 45 minutes, my flight from Thiruvananthapuram landed at Colombo Bandaranaike International Airport.

Unusual arrangements at the airport had just begun. They gave me an application and asked me to fill it out. They checked to see if I had the flu. In the application, there were questions as to whether I had a fever and whether I had been treated anywhere. There were also questions about whether I went to China recently, or met Chinese people. The answer was a resounding ‘yes’ or ‘no’ option. We have to jump at the chance to think, right.

When I came out with my luggage, my mother’s friend and my mentor Basheer Segudawood, whom we call ‘Thankam’, was waiting for my arrival.

Solo travel is not really easy. Even though we travel alone, there are still many people behind the scenes, before and after the trip. Some send us. Some welcome us.

About the author:

Diya Al Badhri

My name is Diya Al Badhri. I was born in Sri Lanka on July 30, 2008. We settled in India in 2012 when I was three and a half years old. We lived in Chennai till 2016. That’s where I started my elementary education. My first guru was my mother who was a single mother. She and I have made numerous trips, trekking and hiking. In 2016 I returned to Sri Lanka. I continued my studies in Colombo. Then again in 2019, the circumstances forced me to stay in a hostel in India. I returned to Sri Lanka in 2020 due to Covid -19. I am learning from the flow of such an uncertain life.