I know someday you will return
Weary, torn, lost, bewildered.
Your eyes deceiving your heart while you would fake a smile
For I know or maybe knew what you used to be.
The withering skin, the greying hair won't cloak your inner self,
For your heart, a radiant one can't age, can it?
You would plead, you would moan
Tears would brim, words would get lost in silence.
A deafening silence, which would choke us.
I want you to know, I know it all, I knew it all
So, please don't return if you even want to
For, no one is waiting for you.
For, the road that lead to my heart has long been trampled
And I have stopped hurting myself, I want you to know this.
For, things change and when they change, they change for good.
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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