Sri Lanka my home, my cradle, my endless green, the hills that whisper stories and the rivers that murmur in my dreams. For years, I have imagined this the hum of engines, the sudden lift beneath my feet, the world dwarfing beneath me. Now, through the oval window, I see it my island, patchwork of tea, sand, and sea, slipping slowly away, and my heart tightens with a nostalgia I did not know I carried.