Keeping it simple for you

When we packed our luggage, you asked me how long I intended to stay abroad. I said his project was for six months. You mocked me and said, “There’s no U-turn for you.” I laughed and replied, “We’ll see, Mousa.” You blessed me with immense courage to begin my life in an alien world. You asked me to promise that we would take care of each other and blessed us as we stepped out. Every time we met afterward, you reminded me of that conversation and asked, “What happened to the detour?” I would smile and say, “Your nephew’s call, I have to settle with.” The last time I was there, I was without him. We simply convinced ourselves that life takes its own course. And now, you have left me here alone, holding on to memories, while you have moved to another alien world with him. Take care of him, Mousa. I will catch up with you both someday.  I still have work to finish. Rest in peace, Mousa. Om Shanti.

 It was a moment of melting down... I know how emotional I can be when it comes to you, but standing in front of your framed wall, I found myself confined to all our beautiful moments of dressing up or down for occasions. I followed the same routine, got dressed up for all the occasions as I would or rather, as you would want me to but the warmth... the warmth of your attention to detail, the warmth of your teasing, the warmth of your cuddling and asking for more, the warmth of my willingness, the warmth of our lovemaking, everything was running fresh through my mind, but only as memories. Love, how can I build myself again? I was in the crowd, laughing and sharing moments of joy, adding my presence as though everything were as it should be, but the joy... the joy of your leg-pulling, the joy of "It's her life..." turning into the possessiveness of "She's just mine," the joy of your being around, the joy of our laughter and exchanged glances, Love, how can I...

When I see the event posts, or gather the courage to step up and break a leg, a shiver rises from somewhere deep within.... a place where memories still breathe. My heart sinks, and emotions spill quietly through the cracks. The chaos of hospital corridors returns, echoing through silent rooms. Conversations bounce back from distant walls, voices layered upon voices, urgent, hopeful, fearful. It was my first time standing amidst such noise, trying to be the pillar my family needed, while everything inside me trembled. Fear had no place on my lips, though it lived in every heartbeat. I spoke firmly, pleading for help, searching for one more door, one more answer, one more chance to make things better. And you: trying to convince me that I had done all I could, that as your Savitri, I had fought enough. But my heart refused to believe it. The nurses, The doctors, The endless emergencies, The sleepless hours spent asking what else could I have done? What did I miss? Could love alone have ...

When our souls connected and we bonded, you said “I love you” in the ways you cared: a little pampering, an extra hug; a snug place inside your tee, even when I bugged. Stains of vermilion, unavoidable; love notes written on skin instead of paper. Blossoms of affection in every caress, each movement touched by a gentle breeze. Our love was nurtured through phone calls as we grew closer despite the distance. You followed your heart, setting aside discomfort because that was how you cared, and our love knew no boundaries. We cuddled through a journey filled with joy, jokes, and fresh starts whenever differences arose. Then we became parents: first to someone, then to some-two. And once again, we grew. Bound by responsibilities, yet never forgetting to detour into those old days when saying “I love you” was unnecessary because we already knew how deeply we belonged to one another. You called me the craziest person in your life, and I insisted that you simply deal with it :) We gracefully ...

  Oh my goodness… the voice I had been craving for finally echoed through the silence. I turned around, searching everywhere, but in vain… and yet it was so clear, as if he stood right beside me, calling out, “Mammaa…” For a moment, I felt his presence all around me. I looked, I longed… and after months of unbearable silence, hearing that voice made my heart sink. Tears rolled down before I could even hold them back. Deep within, I always knew he was with me. Still, I kept wondering if I would ever see him again , even if only in my dreams, like I did the day after he left for heavenly glory. But this evening, while gathering every ounce of strength to prepare the invitation for his shradha ceremony, my heart was aching for him more than ever. In my thoughts and longing, I wished I could simply pull your chair close, sit beneath it, rest my head in your lap, and stay there for a while… and just then, the voice echoed again. He is here. With me. Around me. And somehow, I love him ev...

Back in the grind again… scared of the tasks ahead and overwhelmed by the weight of responsibilities. Last year, on this very day, we were holding onto each other, promising that no matter what life brought our way, we would never let go. We believed no hardship could break our strength, and together we would face every low and rise back into better days. When I look back at that moment, gently holding your feet, comforting you, silently promising myself that I would stand beside you, fight for you, and never let anything separate us for years to come, it hurts to realize that today, I no longer even have a reason to look forward to this date. Piece by piece, I am trying to gather what remains and hold everything together for our children. But the soft whispers of reassurance that once gave me strength are slowly fading into silence. Time is supposed to heal pain, but how do I explain the weight of a grief that words can barely carry? The rare moments when I laugh or feel like myself a...