Today when the sun would shine tearing apart the night's gloom,
It would peep through my curtains in search of it's friend
But, I would be gone.
The wind would carry the faint smell of my breath,
The creased bedsheets would announce my farewell,
The lonely chair in my room would sag in dismay,
The yellowing pages would lease life,
The blotted stains on those crumpled leaves of my worn out diary would hold my memory,.
The hawker by my door would miss a buyer,
The ice-cream parlour, would miss a lover.
I would no longer hear the honk of a roadside romeo,
Nor my mom's familiar clink of bangles,
No newspaper would glorify my disappearance,
Life would go on, but I would be gone.
I am the eldest grandchild in my family. And being the eldest, I was pampered a great deal by my grandparents. My aama (grandma) and baa (grandpa) always shielded me from every possible dangers including thrashings from maa. I have pleasant memories of evening story sessions as grandpa took me to bed. Aama would oil my hair and tie pony tails which resembled coconut trees that I used to draw. Sundays meant elaborate sessions with my grandparents. Baa would trim my nails, aama would fondle me to sleep. Their bed room was literally my playing room, my story book reading room, my painting room and what not. With time, as I grew, I got a room of my own but their room was still my favourite one. When I left for hostel, I missed them more than I missed my parents. It was in the year 2014, I had come home after my exams when aama received a pressure stroke . She couldn't make it. I had spent a month as he lay sick on her bed. All of a sudden, there was a role reversal. I could
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