The sweet wind in my hair
The quiet company of one
My mind reeling with unspoken thoughts;
Brimming with the shadows of actions past
Remembering those silent warnings
And syncretic union of days gone by
And more to come.
Laughter sounding clear in my ears
Transporting me back to those joyous moments
And with it coming of the silent suffering:
The escaped tendrils fluttering in the breeze
Shake off the unwanted recalling.
The wind centres me;
Makes me want to focus on possibilities to come.
I watch the sun go down,
Beyond the horizon with the saffron hue,
The birds flying high to go back home
Leaving the shadows of struggles behind.
I watch the sun go down.
It will rise again;A new morning.
So I recently visited my old place.Actually, I moved out of that place around six years ago.But my family decided against selling it and finally decided on renting.So the old tenant moved out recently,and my parents thought that it would be best to repaint before renting again.So trash was thrown out, painters were brought in, and painting started.
When I visited on the weekend,my father picked me up at the station and told me that the paint was almost complete. Since it’s on the way to my new place,we decided to stop and take a look.I haven’t been inside that house in the last six years.Not even once.But the moment I stepped through the front doors,memories flooded back so fast,it felt like I was watching a movie in fast-forward. The lobby where my brother and I, would lie down on the cool floor during the sweltering summer;the room I was always afraid to enter because there was a supposed lizard there(Yes,I am afraid of lizards.Big deal.);the huge bay window at the stair landing,where we used to sit for hours at a stretch;and yes,the terrace with the separate benches with our names on them.It all rushed back onto my mind’s screen and I stood staring at it all.
It was beautiful now.That unique smell of paint was wafting into my nostrils and the sight of that counter where my trophies were once displayed brought that sense of comfort, which only a place where you had lived long enough, could bring.Ten years is a long time.Yes,I lived there for ten long years.
My father started checking the technical stuff and I decided to go upstairs to take a look at the terrace.Not much had remained same.Large number of potted plants that used to be assembled near the balcony were missing,and there was no trace of the high landings where my brother and I sat and talked.It was surrounded by high rise buildings all around.But at the same time,there were still so many similarities. The benches still stood with our names carved into them,my brother’s name which I had carved into the back wall once,and yes,our basketball net still hung from the wall,albeit destroyed for further use.But still it was there.It not all, quite a few memoirs could be found all around.It was a wonderful feeling,recalling it all.And it tore me up just a little. :’)
Papa came upstairs to get me.It was time to go home.I nodded and turned back around to take a quick last look.A lone tear rolled down my cheek and I let it.Afterall,this place had once been the only home I had ever known.It still had that homely feeling,even if it had no furniture and nothing I could call mine.No, let me correct myself.It did have something which was mine.Even with the bare walls and curtainless rods,it still held tons of memories.And that’s what matters,isn’t it?The memories.
My father locked the front door. We started walking. We had to go home.It was getting late.I stopped and turned around.This place would always be home,no matter what.A smile spread across my lips.We started walking.
So,I actually had no intentions of writing something so close to my heart so early in my blogging experience.But,well,I guess,what’s meant to be will always find its way.A thing after another lead me to pour it all out without any delays.A friend of mine told me that her grandfather expired the day before;I came to my place and plugged in my headphones while simultaneously falling onto my bed,and guess what?The first song that blasted through my head headphones was…?Yeah?Hello heartache,ofcourse.And then I read a blog about death and loss.
So,yeah,I couldn’t keep it all in anymore.I just had to get it all out.And that’s exactly why I have started blogging in the first place,isn’t it?To get it all out?So,ofcourse,I decided to write.
It’s been almost three long years since she died.My rock.The person who loved me unconditionally, no matter what.My inspiration.My grandmother…my amma. Yes,she has been dead for three long years and it still hurts like hell.literally.My amma was one of the strongest person I have ever known.She lost her husband to the third heart attack which he couldn’t endure,and she still survived.Her home split,and she still survived.Her youngest daughter came home after she couldn’t take her failing marriage anymore,and she still survived. Yes,in my world,she was one of the strongest.She loved with a passion we only dream about.
A beauty of her times,she was still gorgeous when I came to know her.With creamy skin,waist length pepper and salt hair and deep deep eyes,she was breathtaking.Not only in the physical sense,but every other sense as well.Whenever I visited with her,I felt energised in a way I can’t explain. You know,it was like she yeilded some silent magick. Her family was what meant most to her.Always.
She loved all her grandkids,but I was her favorite.We were the closest. You see,it was that unbreakable bond we had,which nothing could ever break.She told me all about her olden days,and we laughed while reading the newspaper headlines which weren’t funny in the least.We loved the same dessert,the same cookies,the same…almost everything.
The news of her passing away came just after the day my tenth standard exams got over.I hadn’t met her in quite a while due to my studies,and had plans to go meet her the very next morning.The next morning I had been woken up by my maid telling me amma was no more.I hadn’t quite believed my ears.I thought she said something else by mistake.Because she couldn’t die,you know.Afterall,we had plans.She couldn’t go without saying goodbye.She just had a heart attack in her sleep,and now she was no More?Not possible,I had said.I mean,she had been a constant in my life forever.She couldn’t just…go.My mother had come and taken me into her arms and only when I felt wetness had I realised that I was crying.Bawling, was more like it.And I couldn’t stop.Till I couldn’t cry anymore.
It was then time to go,say goodbye to her.The moment I went through the door,had I realised that I wasn’t the only one who loved her.There were many more who,if not more,loved her as much as I did.And we all were in this together.We would help each other in our grief and make it all easier.And we did.I didn’t cry anymore that day because I knew that the place she was in was far more beautiful and peaceful then any place we have ever been to.And she was, or would be,eventually,happy there.And a day would come when we would be happy again.Eventually,if not immediately.Recovering was a time taking process.
Overtime,I have come to realise that people leave,no matter how hard you try to hold onto them.They eventually reach that final destination no matter how much you try to stop them.And you never stop loving them,no matter how far away they go.In the few months after she was gone,even the slightest of things triggered a memory which would fill my eyes with tears.And I let them fall freely.Over the time,the pain faded quite a bit and the beautiful memories were what remained at the foremost.And yeah.I even came to terms with the regret I had of not being able to say goodbye.Because maybe she just wanted me to remember her like the last time I saw her:happy,healthy.And even though I miss her all the time,and I know she can’t be present by my side all the time in flesh,I know she’s there with me every second of everyday…in my heart.
And in the end,that’s all that actually matters,you know.The memories we make,the love we have,and yeah,the way we choose to live our lives.I made a pretty good decision,I think.I chose the love and the memories over the regret…because if I had chosen otherwise,I would still be living in the past,with the ghost of tomorrow lurking over my head,and heart,and dragging me under with the weight of it…N I would just be filled with sadness and grief.And, ofcourse she wouldn’t want that,would she??