How do I miss you
When I never forget to remember you?
It hasn't been easy
It never would be, I know.
I find us in the mellowing pages of memory,
As green as we used to be.
I try to shut my eyes
In desperate attempts of escaping what's real
But how do I shut my heart where your voice rings deep?!
I am fine as I promised
I will be fine as you wanted
But there's a fine line between being fine and being me
I guess I am going to miss that.
And yes, I don't miss you like I thought I would
For I can never forget you.
And I know that's how you feel as well
I do.
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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