Rising above the regret
It was late 2022. Three years had passed since I went to India. In these three years, the pandemic came and receded. But the pandemic did not affect me so much that the geopolitical tension between India and China did. It robbed me of some precious moments with my family- the moments which could be my lifetime memories, had become lifetime regrets.
In the second week of October 2022, I decided to go home. But the entire trip was uncertain. Why? Let me break down the factors here:
- The fare: With no direct flights between China and India (a situation that persists today), I would need to transit through one or two countries. The fares had skyrocketed. Previously, I had flown directly from Guangzhou to Kolkata on Indigo Airlines for just over INR 10,000. Now, the minimum fare is INR 60,000–70,000.
- COVID testing: Even if I could manage buying the expensive ticket, there was another crucial hurdle—COVID-19 testing at 28 and 48 hours before departure from India for China. A positive result would end the journey before it began.
- Mandatory and expensive quarantine: Entering China would require a 14-day mandatory quarantine in government-designated luxury hotels at my own expense. In total, returning to China from India would cost around INR 1.5 lakh per person.
That night, as I lay in bed thinking, I wondered if spending so much money on going home made sense. Wouldn’t it be better invested in a bank? But some things, and at certain times, are simply beyond logical thinking. The answer was clear in my mind. I would start preparing for my journey home. I needed to speak to my supervisor.
Putting a plan in place
“I understand, you need to go home.”, my boss acknowledged, as I expressed my desire.
“Yes, Sir, it has been so long. Everyone in my family is asking me to come home. Payal also wants to come here.”, I said.
“What happened to Payal’s arrival?” he asked.
A few days before this conversation, we had tried hard to bring Payal to Guangzhou. There was a direct flight between Delhi and Hong Kong. But entering mainland China from Hong Kong through the land border was challenging. Only one thousand people, chosen by a lottery system, were allowed entry per day. Our plan was for her to fly from Hong Kong to another Chinese city, where she would stay in a 14-day quarantine. My boss and I would then go to that city to accompany her back to Guangzhou. A former student of our university who lived in Hong Kong had agreed to help Chi during her stay there.
“She is not ready to travel alone, especially in this situation. Her family is also worried about this arrangement.”
“Yes, that’s right too,” he thought for a moment and then added, “It’s not right that you two live separately. You go home and bring her. Have you decided on any route?”
“Yes. Thai Airways has a flight from Guangzhou to Kolkata via Bangkok.”
“Ok, that’s great. Let me speak to the university once. If we can make it your official visit, then some of your travel expenses can be reimbursed.”
“Yes, Sir, it will be really helpful”, I said. However, I would prefer it not to become an official trip.
But it became, eventually.
Homecoming booked
After this conversation, a few days passed. Nothing happened. I was becoming impatient with each passing day.
One day, my supervisor texted me, “How long do you want to go home for?”
“At least two months.”, I said.
“I spoke at the university. According to the rules here, you can get leave for a maximum of two weeks for personal reasons. And if you choose to make it official, then it can be one month, not more than that.”
“Sir, I haven’t taken any leave in three years. Two weeks is too short for a visit home.”
“I understand,” he replied. “Here’s what we can do. Get an invitation letter from an Indian university stating they’re inviting you for a project that will take at least two months to complete. Then create a detailed daily schedule for these two months. Add your travel dates and the fare details. Send me the document as soon as you can. I’ll see what I can do.”
It did not take long to create the travel program. I emailed Abhishek Da (Dr Abhishek Mukherjee), one of the professors at the Indian Statistical Institute, where I did my PhD, for the invitation letter. I sent the document to my supervisor within 24 hours of having that conversation. After three weeks, the approval email came from the university. I was cleared to go to India on an official visit. It was the third week of October.
I couldn’t wait any longer to buy the tickets. I chose the date of November 26 to fly to India, four days before my wedding anniversary. The total fare was RMB 2,978, or approximately INR 30,000. I shared the news with everybody at home. That night, I realised how strong the attraction of homecoming could be. I lay down, eyes open, looking forward to the days of excitement and happiness.
But if I had known about the sleepless, anxious nights waiting for me, I would have tried harder to sleep well that night.
