Journey to Australia
Category B: Highly Commended (2025) Monash Short Story Writing Competition
Author: Lakshita Korimilli
I was on the couch watching TV during the never-ending lockdown in my country, when my mum’s phone rang. It was my dad, only eight thousand kilometres and a few oceans away. Every morning and evening, he called us, and those long chats kept us going. The lockdown was hard on us. My dad was far away, and my mum had to work twice as hard to manage the house and two kids on her own. But that day, he only wanted to speak to her. Although young, I knew what it was about: we might finally be able to visit him.
We began preparing, packing up our lives into boxes and suitcases, storing away our furniture and memories. We moved in with my uncle temporarily. Then came disappointing news: our flight was cancelled. Everything we had packed, everything we gave away, suddenly felt pointless. My mum, uncle, and aunt sat for a long talk, discussing what we would do now. But not long after, my dad called again, and this time with good news and urgency. “You need to catch a flight soon,” he said.
In a few days, we were on our way to the airport. The goodbyes were rushed and messy. Not many of our relatives knew, but those who did were sad. It was the middle of the night, the roads and airport empty due to the curfew. My brother, still very young, was tired and cranky. The wait to get on our plane was long, and tiring. Some hours later, we boarded the plane to Doha, Qatar, our stopover before flying to Australia.
Doha was dazzling, with bright lights, massive screens and fancy shops. Most of the time, we slept in a tiny 3-by-5-foot transit room pre-booked by my dad. Then came our final stretch: the flight to Melbourne. This was it, and we would meet my dad soon. Quite wrong. I was naive, simple-minded and I didn’t know how things worked. I landed in Melbourne, Australia. We sat in the airport for what felt like hours. So long, way too long. I was tired, jetlagged, and the airport lights seemed to be mocking me. My mum goes away and comes back later, ushering us to get up. This is where I get confused. Where am I? Where is my dad? Shouldn’t he be here to pick us up?
Some people lead us into a bus, which took us to this big, fancy hotel. It was the kind Disney princesses would attend tea parties in. The environment was a huge change to what I was used to. Quiet and peaceful, like the whole city was asleep. We got checked into the hotel and they gave us a room with exquisite views. I take a look around, and it looks like something out of a movie. Floor to ceiling windows with a fantastic view of the city, a little love couch placed in a secluded area with an even more dazzling view of the buildings. That’s finally when my mum explains. We were placed in a 15 day quarantine. Food would be delivered to our room, and daily covid tests that had to be submitted. One thing stood clear amidst all this; I was not supposed to leave that room. The first few days were fine, we were learning and getting used to everything around us. The staff even bought us kids some games. The food was out of the ordinary for us. We were used to having traditional meals from our culture, so having hotel food felt different. But soon enough, we got very bored. All we did was lounge around, watch tv, eat food and sleep. The staff messed up our food sometimes. We were vegetarians, but a few times, we found chicken and beef in our food. That was the first day I found out how meat was cooked into food!
After a long few days, something exciting finally happened. It was my mother's birthday! We all dressed up to celebrate, talked to some relatives, and during the evening, we dressed up in pretty clothes to sing and dance together. Coincidentally, my dad booked a vaccination appointment in a place near our hotel that day. After he was done, he stood under our window, soaking under the Melbournian rain, waving at us from the ground. And we waved back. We saw him for the first time after three years, and I’m sure I ugly cried. Later, my father ordered some traditional food to our room to celebrate my mother’s birthday, and we all took pictures in the living room, making new memories in a new place, a new kind of experience.
Fast forward to the day before we were supposed to be released. After so long, it felt like we were on house arrest. We were antsy, imagining how our life would look in the near future. The hotel gave us options; we could spend the night in the hotel, and leave in the morning, or we could leave at midnight. We chose the latter, unable to wait till we got to see my father. That day, my mum advised us to get a few hours of sleep at night, but neither of us could sleep a wink.
I barely remember anything from when it was time for us to go. All I remember was getting into the elevator, and walking out the front door to hug our dad as hard as we could. At the end of all this, I realized that what started as a distant uncertainty came to reality with tons of mixed emotions, sometimes bringing us tears of sadness and happiness. Destiny plans ahead, unknown to us.