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"Seema's Sky" is a translation of Prakash Trivedi's Gujrati novel "Seemanu Aakash". It has been specially translated by Ashok Dholabhai for shaaditimes. It is a love story and more.
 It's not easy to free yourself from the clutches of New York mused Nikki.
New York to Parkersberg wasn’t far-hardly 500 miles but in the dark of night even that distance seemed interminable.
Nikki had to remain cooped up in the stationary plane for half an hour and another half an hour while the plane taxied at small pace down the runway. Had the flight not been delayed he would have been in Charleston, West Virginia in just 30 minutes- an hour gone waste.
Nikki was tired, afraid and dishevelled.
The only consolation was that once the plane took off he would be in Charleston in an hour and forty-five minutes and in Parkersberg in another hour. The thought of reaching Parkersberg gave him a feeling of pleasant comfort and anticipation as if he was going to lay his head in his mother's lap.
Kennedy International Airport was a beehive of activity and New York - vast and complex as the human brain into which data was fed purposefully, it was impossible to predict how this data would be analyzed and with what results. It was a dream made up of unrelated facts, a kaleidoscope in which several patterns emerged at random. A vast jungle in which new flora and fauna constantly evolved and where the rules of existence kept changing rapidly.
Nikki heaved a sigh of exasperation as he saw an unending row of planes lined up for take off. It reminded him of Mumbai, of Churchgate railway station with its queues of passengers, of Flora Fountain and Marine Drive with long lines of buses and vehicles.
In the distance was Manhattan, it lits-up high, brightening the New York skyline like thousands of fireflies and showcasing its grandeur. The airport too reflected this grandeur with planes taking off for various countries like India, Korea, China, Zambia, Mexico. Nikki wondered what were the aspirations.
Nikki wondered what were the hopes and aspirations of those thousands flying out from New York. Would they find it easy to break off their fascination for New York unlike him? He himself had gone back twice to India from New York. For a kid born, brought up and educated in the small town of Nadiad in Gujarat it was no mean achievement. Each visit to New York had meant different experiences a wide variety of food, new places, and new friends. But this trip had become for him a completely unique, unimaginable and an almost impossible journey.
When he started out on Friday, Nikki was just Nikhil a raw immature youth eagerly looking forward to seeing New York. Now, returning on Monday he was no longer a kid. Nikki mulled over the flow of events during this short span of 4 days.
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