Saying Goodbyes and Starting Again

Learning the art of letting go

If you had told me years ago that I would become an expert in goodbyes, I would have laughed. Yet here I am, bags packed, photo albums stuffed. WhatsApp groups buzzing, preparing to do it all over again.

In army life, moving is not an exception; it’s the rhythm. It’s what we do between friendships, between adventures, between homes. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that what truly makes each posting special isn’t the city, the scenery, or event the accommodation, it’s the people you find there.

Friendships that crash into your life

Some friendships arrive quietly, a polite hello at the mess, a borrowed cup of sugar, a chance meeting at a welfare function. Others come crashing into your life like a monsoon storm, sweeping you into coffee marathons, endless phone calls, and impulsive shopping sprees. Before you know it, you’re spending fifteen hours a day with people who, just a week ago, were strangers, and suddenly, you can’t imagine your days without them.

Transforming ordinary places into wonderlands

Whether posted to a buzzing metro or a sleepy town with one main bazaar, friendships have been my anchor. I’ve made friends with women officers and fellow wives, women who become my 6 am workout buddies, my 9 pm kitchen confidants, my “drop everything and let’s go” partners. Together, we made even the dullest towns feel vibrant.

Places like Mhow and Jabalpur come to mind, charming but ordinary on their own, transformed into laughter-filled wonderlands simply because of the people. It didn’t matter whether we were sitting on plastic chairs sipping lukewarm chai or wandering through dusty bazaars in search of “hidden shopping treasures” (and usually finding five things we absolutely didn’t need). With them, every day felt like a festival.

When the circle moves away

It’s funny how a place bursting with hundreds of people can feel completely deserted when your circle moves away. After courses ended or postings changed, and friends packed up, the same lawns, the same grounds suddenly felt too big, too quiet. You could sit at breakfast surrounded by noise, but the absence at your table would be deafening.

The first goodbyes always sting

The first few times, I admit, I handled goodbyes badly. There were misty eyes at farewell lunches, desperate promises to visit soon, and an emotional stockpile of group pictures. Even simple things like seeing a favorite coffee mug or a random bakery we used to hunt could trigger a wave of longing.

Starting again like second nature

But army life doesn’t give you the luxury of sulking for too long. Before you finish unpacking your tissues, you’re already filling out school forms, discovering the local vegetable market, and bumping into new neighbors who will, sooner than you realize, weave themselves into the fabric of your life.

Starting again becomes second nature. Sometimes with the same excitement as opening a fresh diary; sometimes with a little reluctance. But always with hope.

The magic of new beginings

And there’s something magical about it, too. Every new posting is a clean canvas. Each move gives you another chance to build your world again, one coffee date, one shared umbrella, one borrowed book at a time. Some friendships pick up exactly where you left off, like meeting a fellow nomad in a new place and realizing you were next-door neighbors two postings ago. Some friendships are brand new, stitched together through school runs, craft fairs, welfare meetings, and endless cups of tea.

Watching children teach us

Children adapt faster than we do, of course. They jump into new playgrounds, find best friends by lunchtime, and navigate unfamiliar parks with ease. Watching them has taught me to let go of hesitation. It’s not about replacing old memories, it’s about expanding the guest list.

What stays behind: The people

Today, when I think of the many places I’ve called home, it’s not the road names or weather reports that I remember. It’s the people. The women who made boring Monday mornings exciting. The friends who could guess my food order. The ones who stood outside the trunk dispatch office at 6 am just to say goodbye one more time.

Packing memories with hope

Saying goodbye will never be easy. It will always pinch a little, that tug when you hug a friend knowing it might be months, even years, before you sit together again. but in every goodbye, there’s also gratitude. For laughter, for the memories, for the sheer joy of finding kindred spirits again and again.

And so, I pack my trunk one more time. Maybe I’ll cry a little as I label the cartons. But, I’ll also smile. Because the road ahead is wide, and somewhere, a new tribe is waiting, ready for chai sessions, chaotic bazaars, and the next fifteen-hour-long day of pure, effortless friendship.

In the army, goodbyes aren’t endings. They’re just the beginning of another beautiful, crazy, unforgettable chapter.