She hears a voice, a voice which isn't a voice alone.
The chill of an October evening fades with the warmth that the voice fetches.
Seven seas suddenly dry up when she flies back to times,
to the world which has been caged in photographs.
Photographs, she feels, are the world's greatest treasure.
They steal moments out of a transient life.
She had chose to travel, to live and not just survive.
The girl who always kept to her home had for good decided to be a gypsy.
Her rough hair tore the fierce wind apart,
Her head strong wishes gave the world reality checks.
But, amidst all that was happening,
She had lost a part of herself.
The one who chased butterflies was now chasing life.
The one who loved shimmering lights now preferred to succumb to the night's gloom
Everything, she had taught her heart to believe was fine.
Until, that voice haunted her.
For, she could fight everyone but not her granny
Who wanted her butterfly to be home.
She had said, "What's diwali, when I don't get to see my butterfly dancing in those shimmering lights."
She had hugged her phone as she would have hugged life.
The muffled sobs that the wireless fetched
had died,
but she could hear what remained unspoken,
"Will you be home? "
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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