Flight of dreams, heart of home

The first flight of my life felt like a dream come true. It was a long, twenty-hour journey to the country I had always dreamed of—the United States, a dream shared by many young Nepalese. As I boarded the Korean airline for my first transit in Incheon, I was overjoyed to find that I had a window seat. My first flight, a window seat, and the anticipation of finally stepping onto U.S. soil—it all had me on cloud nine, or so I thought.

Gazing out of the airplane window, my eyes were locked on the cloudy expanse of Kathmandu's sky. Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of desolation hit me, leaving my limbs numb and my heart heavy.

I began replaying each step that led me here, questioning whether my decision had truly been the right one. After all, I was leaving behind everything I cherished deeply, stepping away from the familiar embrace of all that was dear to me, and embarking on a new journey in pursuit of the boundless opportunities that higher education promised.

But was it all necessary? This question overshadowed the joy of the moment I had eagerly waited for years. Was it truly worth sacrificing all that had brought me happiness—family, friends, familiar faces, the vibrant streets, the rich culture, and the comforting warmth of home?

Was I the perpetrator of my own unhappiness? I could have enrolled in a good college in Nepal, lived, laughed, and lamented amongst my own. I could have experienced the highs and lows of my younger years at my own pace. I wanted to see so many places and meet new people around Nepal. So, what was this decision about? Was it all just a naïve decision without much thought? I was overwhelmed with doubts and second thoughts.

The U.S. also promised me freedom—but had I fallen for its illusion once again?

What greater freedom could there be than wandering the streets of Kathmandu at dusk with friends? Sharing stories, laughing at old jokes, and revisiting the same café for the twentieth time that week, not because it was new or exciting, but because it felt like home. I had no answers to all these questions tossing around in my mind.

I’ve always refrained from watching melodramatic Indian serials, yet in this moment, everything around me felt like a scene straight out of one. The tears I had fought so hard to hold back during my goodbyes were now threatening to spill. The seat I had been so excited to sit on just moments ago now felt unbearably uncomfortable, and chills started running down my spine.

With a heavy heart and a hint of regret, I turned my head to take in my surroundings inside the plane. I could see people my age in the seats ahead of me. Were they feeling the same emotions that I was feeling? None of them seemed cheerful; some even had reddish eyes, maybe the mark of their heartfelt goodbyes. They too must have had huge expectations from a foreign land, just like me. Was their decision correct?

Within ten minutes of boarding the flight, I had questioned my decision more times than I had during the entire application process. But the difficult thing was that I had no answers, nor did I have anyone to answer them for me.

Yet, no matter how many questions raced through my mind, I knew I couldn’t let doubt overshadow the reason I had come this far. Not now!

Amid all the doubts swirling in my mind, I started going back to the moment my family heard the news that my visa was approved—the way their faces lit up, the pure happiness in their eyes. That memory played over and over, reminding me of everything they had sacrificed so I could chase my dreams. Giving in to doubt now felt like turning my back on all their hard work. So many people would do anything for a chance like this. I had chosen this path, and no matter how uneasy I felt, I owed it to myself—and to them—to see it through.

With this newfound courage, I embraced the reality that my life was about to change, and I would have to rebuild myself in a whole new way. Holding onto that reassurance, I turned to the window once more. In that moment, an overwhelming sense of love and patriotism washed over me—for Nepal, the country that had given me everything. I looked up at the sky, whispered a silent thank you to God, and made a promise to my motherland that I would return soon.

(Samheet Mishra, originally from Kathmandu, Nepal, is currently residing in Vermillion, South Dakota, USA.)