The stranger

The flames of the next-door fire was about to engulf the kitchen window. Mr. T knew the last could be near, very near. He screamed for his son who was busy collecting all the important documents. The wife with daughter had reluctantly climbed downstairs carrying the valuables. He knew to wait further was utter foolishness yet like most middle-class, home was his most prized asset. Something he had built gradually and was now on the verge of losing it forever.
At that very moment, Mr. T found a hand patting his back. “Sir, we’ve to fight it out. Just can’t watch the fire overpower all,” shouted the complete stranger. His confidence was infectious and gave Mr. T the exuberance of adolescence. Together they put a strong resistance. Soon the professionals joined them to save the two room apartment. It was early morning when the fire was fully extinguished. All this while the stranger never once left his side.
Finally the wife moved up with the children. Mr. T searched for his wallet and emptied it to offer to the stranger. “You keep it back, Sir! I don’t need it,” the stranger responded. “Then what to do you need?” asked confused Mr. T.
Pat came the reply, “Just a cup of tea without milk and sugar.” He continued, “I am jobless. Entire day was trotting around looking for a job. Saw the flames and rushed in. Even you would have done the same, wouldn’t you?”
Mr. T went blank and speechless. The stranger had tea and disappeared from their lives as suddenly as he had entered. No pleasantries spoken. No numbers exchanged.
That very day Mr. T prayed for the first time in his 47 year old life.

(P.S. This is inspired from a true story.)

Till death do us apart

Image courtesy: Google


Everybody around is getting married. Even the British royalty seems to be in a hurry to take the plunge. Word of caution from well-wishers is not good enough for the lovelorn couple who sees no reason to the fuss around. And why not? Did we listen to the more experienced friends when they cautioned us? With dreamy eyes and soulful of expectations we tied the knot. And before you get me wrong, let me clarify one thing. I am not against marriage at all. And why should I because I have tasted and sailed through the different turns of holy matrimony myself. So, fear not but be realistic in your expectations and needs from this new relationship which according to Hindu mythology is sure to last your not one but seven lifetime. Quite a task! What say?
Here are some pointers which might help you for a reality check:
• All real couples do fight and they fight a lot. So if you feel that your marriage is going to be completely different from your parents who still fight at the slightest hint. You are in for some surprise. Chances are you could end up fighting more.
• Marriage is like a long drive on a highway. In the same journey, some roads are a treat to drive while others are a terror to pass by. Quite alike, in a marriage some days are like a dream come true while others are too bad even to wake up to.
• Marriage is a sealed deal which has no provision for any alteration in future. So if your spouse today can give some serious competition to any beauty queen. Count your blessings and don’t brag about it. Because people do change quite a lot and she might not look the same gorgeous babe you got hooked to. Your prosperity might be proportional to her size making her bloat even more with every success of yours. After all haven’t you heard the saying, “Behind every successful man there is a woman”. Now nobody told us how this woman looks like, right?
• Whether you thought you’ll never let any outsider intrude is a fiction far away from reality. Parents are bound to get involved. More so in your fights. And you will find yourself uttering sentences like, “See your mom said this and your dad told me that.”
• You’ll truly wait and celebrate just the first anniversary. After that the counting will stop. Rest will follow as you keep working each day to make it work. And one fine day, somebody will wish “Happy Anniversary” while you’ll wonder “oh, maybe that is why the day sounded familiar”. Then as you end up another fight for forgetting the D-day. You’ll find yourself murmuring, “Big deal! Marriage is not the end of the world.”
Before you think that I am trying to persuade you against it. Let me just say that I am not. Marriage is an experience on which you can write books. It is a change you wake up to and a belief you fall asleep to feeling secured where advices do come handy most times. And tomorrow don’t blame me that “I didn’t tell you so.”

Anything but easy

Some people have it so easy that it makes me sick while most including yours truly have to run from pillar to post for people to even acknowledge their mere existence.

Say, the day you fall sick and are entitled for a leave is the exact day when the whole world seems to be choking you with work. And you are left with no option but to wish the world to come to an end so that you can atleast rest you’re back for a couple of seconds if not more. But hey, how can you forget that you don’t feature in that list of the privileged few?

As if that’s not enough, while you’re struggling to come to life you do get to see your colleague (in the very next work station) taking a nap with no phone calls to intrude. Makes me wonder how come every time this same colleague gets to go on mid-term long holidays more so when a new pitch or work knocks at the doorstep? Even miraculous is the fact that this same person never misses a single appraisal and makes double than what I bring home (even without moving a muscle)? The only thing perhaps he does better is the generous distribution of butter when the biggies are around. Aren’t these big bosses worried about their rising cholesterol level with the consumption of so much butter?

Professional life is just a part of it. What about the days you’re already late; the traffic seems to be even denser? Why does the entire world have to be late too? Or when you are fighting with time not on your side, do you happen to be greeted with all the red signals that falls on your route? Perhaps even the ones that do not have the reputation to function also wake up suddenly and glare with bright red eyes.

Have you ever thought that how come you also bump into the same person whom you’ve been avoiding for the last decade? That too in situations where you just can’t avoid exchanging pleasantries even if there is nothing pleasant to share. The plot thickens further when you are with somebody special and your way crosses with some nosy neighbour or relative who leaves no stone unturned in going public making you a celebrity overnight.

The list can go on for endless pages yet such is life which is thoroughly unfair. Do let me know if you feel likewise else will feel left out in this unfairness.

Not common

Image Courtesy: Google


“Stop it that’s too much”, is what I often grew up hearing as I have this habit of getting carried away. And thank God for that! Atleast there was somebody to draw the line when it was enough.
I realize it more often than now when I see this whole circus of the Common Wealth Games in Delhi ensuring a prime location in every newspaper or news channel. First of all whoever decided to host the CWG game needs to be given a “Thank You” note with a statutory warning of “Not using his/her brain again otherwise the whole nation may die of shame.”
Second of all the organizers deserve a much round of applause for their outstanding service to the nation by pocketing huge sum of the hard earned tax payers money. Probably a ‘Shaurya Chakra’ would do justice to them for being so brave and unashamed about the whole thing. So much so that when one of the foot bridge fell even before any of us got a chance to set our feet there, the only response was “Hey, chill guys! Such minor setbacks are bound to happen in such big events”.
The accusations from a host of other countries displaying their loud public displeasure about the cleanliness and inadequacy of the state of affairs in CWG village too doesn’t seem to have any impact on the who’s-who our nation. And why should it be? Most of them chose to go deaf when it is not of interest to them.
Our last hope is the heavy rains hitting the north region that is posing some serious flood thread all across the region. Even nature is playing a spoilt sport here. Probably it is God’s way of saying, “Stop now. That’s too much”.

Not everything can be fixed

(Picture courtesy Google)

Life came to a standstill on the eve of any cricket match during my growing up days. Classes dropped and offices missed depending upon the situation of our team in the series. And whenever we won, the celebrations too ecstatic to describe. Would you believe me if I say that my not-so friendly vegetable vendor who otherwise would not even let you open your mouth to haggle, generously distributed free brinjals on the our victory against the cross border neighbour not known for its friendly ways?
Even my household was no different. All other mundane chores like cooking, cleaning, mopping would get finished before the start of the match. And if it happened to be on an off day, even better. Lunch would be timed as per the schedule of the player’s lunch time, tea time or the advertisement time. Any refreshment demand apart from these timings would be met with blank looks or better sheer indifference. So engrossed we got in the match sometimes that we just forgot to blink. Even the sanest ones would simply lose logic and insist upon sitting at the same place without moving an eyelid because Sachin has been hitting well ever since you sat at that place. All your nature’s call can wait, they would argue. Because what is more important you or the nation?
Such was the fever that everyone had an expert advice to give in between the overs. So what if you haven’t held a bat in your entire lifetime? Or couldn’t make out a no ball from a wide? Yet as an Indian we did have the birthright to comment on anything and everything that you could think off. While the not so interested ones would cheer for the better looking players each time they were onscreen, without a clue of which teams were playing.
Now times have changed. For better or worse, no points for guessing. No more we feel the need to spend sleepless night over a match because God knows what’s behind? Only the players can tell whether it’s fixed or not. And even if a player gives his best, the mind screams, “Could there be more than what meets the eye?”
Pray not because it is cricket that is always on the losing side. The palpitation in the crucial overs will be missed. The continuous chanting of prayers to see your team win will be skipped. The memories of those heroic innings by some brave player when it mattered the most will fade. And guys, that is something which just can’t be fixed.

When are you settling down?

“Marriage is a union made in Heaven … and hey wait till I finish my line…. And lived in Hell.”
These are not mine but a popular quote of the wisely that I am sure you are well aware off.
Yet, India seems to be obsessed with marriage. Why put one more blame on our politicians and the bureaucracy? Look around you and see how crazy we all are to see people getting married and struggling to remain so till death do them apart. So much so that whenever we come across a fresh carefree breeze of youth in the neighbourhood the pang of jealously brings out the evil in each one of us. And it becomes our business to constantly bombard the parents with the time tested and tried question of “when are you getting your daughter/son married?” Till the time they get restless and pass the germ ahead.
As if that wasn’t enough we feel it is our birthright to bug the prospective bakra (read the goat to be butchered) with again the old boring question of, “ so when are you calling me for your marriage dinner?” As if this is the last supper we’ve been waiting all through our lives without which we just can’t reserve our berth in Heaven.
Most times we get so carried away that we don’t even run shy of playing cupid. Whether the subjects of our real life drama (directed by us) is least concerned or doesn’t hide his/her irritation doesn’t dampen our morale. We carry on our crusade of so-called settling people down.
The term settling down itself has a different connotation in our country. Elsewhere it would mean to have a good job that does not require dealing in arms or killing people, to have a decent pay package if not a big fat one that doesn’t require extortion or blackmailing. All in all to have a life where you are not doing anything against the law and still being able to pay all your bills along with a certain portion of the income reserved for indulgence.
But, hey, in India “settling down” has a new meaning that’s unchanged since eternity. It means to get married and stay married forever. Even if you’re able to enjoy all the finer things in life more frequently than others yet you won’t be figuring out in the list of the accomplished haves until you tie the knot. And it is everybody’s business here to make you settle down (your opinion is immaterial).
But the moment you take the pledge and still learning to swim. There comes the loud chorus of all well-wishers, “See, we told you not to marry?”
And you are left scratching your head wondering, “When did I miss the statutory warnings?”
But before you know you’ll sail through with a vengeance that screams, “Pay back time folks! If I wasn’t spared, why should anybody else?”
While you go on greeting, “Wishing you a very happy wedded life”.

Bye Bye Love!

The pain of losing a pet is something that’s new to me. Now, a lot of people who haven’t had the good fortune of having one would never be able to relate. And without any offence to those who are scared of pets or have formed some kind of aversion to them, I must say that you are missing out on a wonderful experience.
These little creatures just storm into our lives and create a place of their own. Trust me when I say that you don’t have to be an animal lover to have one. They just teach you to love in a whole new way that is alien to our species.
Like my dog Rocky did. He just marched into our lives with severe resistance from most around. And even though I didn’t have a pet before, his beautiful eyes made me fall in love. And in true filmy style I argued, I fought, even I cried in front of the whole neighbourhood till the opposition softened and allowed me to keep him.
Now, it wasn’t a smooth ride. Especially when Rocky had a taste for only the finer things in life. Like he refused food without Chilly Chicken on the menu followed by a bowl of rice and milk with a generous sprinkle of the super rich cream. Or say, when he would just go hungry for days wanting only Vanilla Ice Cream to savour. Even he needed his own bed with a pillow to rest along with a thick blanket and hip coats for trendy winters. Obviously, a handsome fellow like him wouldn't like to be left behind. Yet all the effort was worthwhile for the hearty welcome he gave every time I came back is the best by far, even better than any man would have. And even before realization daunted us, Rocky became the centre of our world. Our life revolved around him and he earned many nicknames to which he responded with the ever friendly wag.
Times changed and marriage took me to a different city where I howled for my beloved Rocky for long. Finally the hubby who never had a dog before with a fetish for cleanliness took pity on me. And bought me my second pet, a Labrador named Buddy. He eased my separation pangs yet Rocky gave me the best welcome each year when I went visiting my folks.
Today when Rocky is gone, the void in my heart is too great to be filled. I meet him in my dreams more often than before. I hold my second one tighter than before hoping that the pain would ease. Life is going on yet I miss Rocky terribly for it’s him who taught me the meaning of “love”. May you rest in peace and solace!

Dost aur dosti

Friendship Day went by and as typical of me I forgot to wish most of my friends. But they know me well, and they would have been hell worried if it had happened otherwise. Well, that’s me yet I am shamelessly not bothered about it. Perhaps that is what friends are for. No expectations just rock solid support.
Like the one when two gal friends decided to parade the entire capital on an antique two-wheeler without a license and a flimsy helmet. Just because we didn’t have boyfriends to give us flowers on Valentines Day while the rest of the world was too busy proclaiming their love. Hell the world even if it meant a direct drop to hell. Because heaven was never meant for us. Dear M that’s been the best valentine I’ve ever spent.
Or the one, when yours truly stole a helmet in broad daylight from a crowded tea stall. Just because the driver happens to be a dear friend whose helmet met with a same fate earlier that day somewhere he doesn’t even bother to remember. But I’ve heard about “tit for tat” for long and decided to give a demo for once. My friend was too nervous to drive back while I was busy inspecting the steal which had a damaged glass. Dear GD, do you remember how you got the glass repaired and crowned me the craziest of all?
Even the one, when two gal friends (mostly broke) hitch-hiked their way from college everyday and saved the money to treat themselves to orange candy bars. And on occasions very few when the University Special bus did ply, stood at the last stepping board of the bus with the rowdy guys. Playing antakshari and singing loudly to add to the woes of the high profile bimbos. Dear R do you remember how the bus driver and ticket collector heaved a sigh of relief when we got down?
Thank you all for your acceptance of my upfront madness. This is an ode to my friends, small yet impressive group of tolerant people whom I’ve embarrassed at many a time. Some I’ve lost touch while others have stuck like a Fevicol. Yet every distance traveled together imprints strongly on my mind. And they continue mailing me with the subject screaming, “Today is my birthday wish ME”.
Ooops…when will I change at all?

SHE AND HER TRIBE

On her marriage she got 101 sarees- the weakness of her tribe
Happy, merry and young
enjoying all the ceremonies
never realizing what was happening-
her age, main culprit- she was simply 12.

When playing was her only occupation
and responsibilities were unknown,
she was tied to the gorgeous drape of 12 yard
“saree” - the only weakness.

As days went by-
basking in the glory of her new found status
enjoying every moment of attention
yet, unaware
after all it was no more her life.

Holding one by one all her possession
beaming with happiness
she wore each one - so typical of her tribe.

Months passed and before she realized,
tragedy struck her door.
Her husband died.
And with him died all colours of her life
so sudden - so unnatural.

Those very 101 sarees became her burden
Only one colour still remained
White - just white.
Accompanied by a whole list of curses, accusations and
the naked eyes of lust.

Since then she greets thousands of deaths
silently- patiently- so very typical of her tribe.

Why grow-up?

I don’t know about you but I was always in a hurry to grow up real fast, like Maggi noodles in straight 2 minutes. If given a choice would prefer to adorn the Bollywood style where the lead actor would sing and dance on his way to adulthood. No books, no studies (read no Maths) and all the freedom to do watch uninterrupted TV. Adulthood was eagerly awaited by me.
And now, when I am all grown-up battling each day in this big bad world. I often ponder, “Gosh! Where was the hurry to grow-up?” And I definitely do miss the good old days when:
A heartbreak meant “missing the-all-so precious Chitrahaar aired only twice a week in Doordarshan”.

A rejection meant “missing the lifetime role of Juliet in the Annual Day English Play because I am taller than the supposedly Romeo and sported the low maintenance boy-cut hairdo which is beyond anything remotely girlie”.

A problem meant “inability to solve the algebra equation in exchange of being granted the permission to watch the 1-hr long Mahabharata, which was roaring its announcement with the blaring volume of the next-door neighbour’s Idiot Box making me go completely numb and dumb”.

Tension meant “disclosing to Dad that I have successfully retained my record of scoring the lowest marks in Maths in the entire class despite his warnings of sending me to Hostel.”

Infatuation meant “head over heels with the brand new Barbie my uncle gifted to me and more importantly none of my friends could claim to own one because it was imported from China”.

Financial stability meant “being able to afford 1 orange bar ice cream (priced at Rs.5) daily and perhaps a rare bhelpuri (priced at Rs.10) once a week.”

An appraisal meant “being promoted as the Class Prefect of a bunch of boisterous lot of whom yours truly was the ring leader and the best political devise utilized aptly by the Class Teacher to keep the class in control.”

Such was life and now years after I miss the simplicity of those old days. Guess I too was simple enough to cherish the precious moments of yester years. Otherwise, who would in their wildest dream wanted to desert the safe haven of innocence and grow up in no time?

Mad or what?

Just the other day somebody screamed at me,” Are you mad?” I feigned deafness. But honestly speaking aren’t we all mad in ways that we are completely unaware?
The industry I belong to is quite infamous for being the legal asylum for insane people. And I don’t have much to regret. This is what keeps us going and makes us little less mundane (with all the due respect).
But aren’t we all in the same boat? If not, then how could you explain?
• Women traveling far and spending double the amount to avail of the discount scheme, even if that means being sandwiched among smelly equally enthusiastic crowd to return in one piece
• The maddening “me first” competition every weekday morning to rush to office, even if that means honking continuously at a traffic signal flashing the immobile Red that even a blind wouldn’t miss
• Hunting for a bride who is rich (able to afford a grand dowry), fair complexioned, convent educated, highly qualified yet homely and domesticated. Even if the groom has never seen a college from inside, charcoal black complexioned, miserably under qualified and jobless
• Hopelessly hopeful about getting back in shape and looking good, when battering the eyelid is the only voluntary exercise you indulge in and oil-soaked food is a must have in the diet plan
• Cribbing about the unhygienic state of the neighbourhood, when all you do is dump the garbage bag in the vacant plot just adjacent (it's lying vacant you see, so who cares)
• Complaining about the sorry state of this country, when all you do is sit back and wait for your turn to fly abroad hopefully to never return (be as an illegal migrant in a room where you’ve to fight for every breath)

We all seem to be losing it. Yet we don’t miss a chance in calling each other by this infamous adjective. So what if I sing to myself while driving, shake my leg in public to my kind of music or talk to the dog about issues as serious as Indo-Pak relations? At least I am harmless.

Such is life

Now, I would prefer to call myself a north Indian at heart, courtesy my years of schooling, college & then employment days. But marriage took a new turn in my life & a calling from south was too good to resist. And I wasn’t complaining either because the excitement of starting a new life was something I was looking forward to.
Years went by and the south has made me feel at home with its linguistic hurdles, Kanjeevaram sarees, gajras and most of all friends who have never made me feel any different.
A very recent trip to the folks back in north did open my senses to the fact that something was amiss. I was no longer the assertive, highly fashionable and heavily made up woman walking on the sultry afternoons with I care for no one attitude.
Rather, here I was the oh so simple gal next-door, making my way through ultra fashionable robust aunties straight from beauty parlours. They looked at me with a pity that you would have for a malnourished child from Somalia. And I looked at them with the horror of being run over by an overloaded & over decked highway truck.
My haggling skills all took a toll. Whenever I quoted a price the shopkeeper knew I was kidding. One of them even chased me off predicting I wasn’t good enough for the purchase. Even the autowallahs knew I no longer lived there and had lost touch to bargain. Probably the visible change in my Hindi accent gave them the clue. Whatever it was, but my purse underwent a heavy weight loss and my pocket suffered a huge dent.
Strangely, my taste bud was the most unhurt and had a great vacation. With food straight from mom’s kitchen what else could you ask for?

Far from over

“Perfect” and I don’t get along too well. Rather we share an enmity that sometimes is much volatile than the rapport we share with our neighbours. So whenever everything around me is just the way I wanted, I tell myself that how can everything fall perfect?
Ever since I could remember, I had to slog for simple things like finding the correct size for my flat footed feet. The embarrassment reached its crescendo when one harassed sales guy advised me bluntly to stop my feet from growing further otherwise I could soon be shoeless. Now, our civilization has progressed to setting foot in the moon but how to control the growth of my feet is not within the perimeter of human knowledge (feel free to correct me if I am wrong).
Incidents were plenty like every time a hard earned vacation was planned, permission seeked and tickets booked. In other words, things were perfect to take a break. The very next moment I did find rashes surfacing on my otherwise smooth skin. Such were the outbursts that I was bed-ridden for a month or longer with measles making sure that the only sight I get is from the forlorn window of my bedroom.
My tryst with the idea of perfect is a saga that’s far from over. But the only thing that has changed over the years is my attitude. So when everything seems to be perfect and fall in place, I fail to savor the moment. Rather I keep my mind on the alert mode, reminding myself to expect the unexpected. After all my life is far from perfect.

If n Me

“If” is a favourite with people who genuinely care about me. And they use it so generously with me that sometimes I really admire the inventor of this word. The world wouldn’t be what it is without the many “ifs” of our lives.

Deep down the memory lanes, I still hear my baba (read dad) uttering his favourite one-liner, “if only you listened to me”. Such was the magic of this word that it made me even more determined to never listen to him. Today, I do regret and tell myself, “if only I would have listened to him.”

Several times later I heard my teachers declaring in numerous meeting with the parents, “if only she could get out of the maths phobia…”. What it did to me is for everyone to witness. I developed an allergy towards the subject that till date I am left uncured off. My milkman, newspaper guy and the grocery fellow are the real winners for my inability to figure out simple calculations. No doubt, the newspaper guy bought a new bike. The milkman is a proud owner of a brand new car. As far as the grocery guy goes, safer to skip the part.

In more recent times, the hubby also gives me an extra large dosage of this word. His favourite being, “if only you would have controlled your temper”. And like every happily married couple, it usually doesn’t end at that. Obviously we fight. (Come on) the world should know we are married for life.

As far as self-introspection goes, I do admit that I often say to myself, “if only I would have studied that bit harder, if I had killer looks to get away with even a murder, if I was born earlier where there was less competition…”. I could go on till eternity.

Seriously, world wouldn’t had been a better place to live without the “IFS”.

Give me a break minus the Kitkat

One of those days when I seriously ponder about my choice of a career. Now, before you get me wrong, let me come out clean. I am a “Copywriter” and I love what I am doing. But most times I don’t get to do anything. Reasons are numerous and these are some that might make sense but most are incomprehensible:

Client has an undying passion to write which couldn’t get fulfilled in the pursuit of a lucrative career. So finds that this is the right channel to revive the undying hobby. (Now, I always knew that good luck doesn’t have a liking for me.)
The Art guy feels the copy is long and comes to his own conclusion that it demands an encroachment on specialization. So, takes the free hand (without my knowledge) to assault. (Although, I am the only one he pleads for when there is a mail to compose.)
“Who reads the copy anyways?” is my friendly Client’s comment. And after all he is paying to run the show. So off comes the scissor that literally tears away my labour of love and mindless hours of hardwork.
“The TG wouldn’t understand.” is the Servicing guy’s precious feedback that I should take professionally (nothing personal). Although he questions my creativity whenever his dwindling sale figures gifts him a backlash from the big brothers.
The big brother who is extremely market savvy (but hardly visits the market) and is the supreme blessed one. Knows the latest trend. So this month he has proclaimed “Two worded headlines” as victorious. Last month “Full two sentence headlines” were the trend. So anybody who mentions about market surveys now knows whom to contact.

Just few of the professional hazards. Everyone seems to write well apart from me. Who needs a copywriter in this world? Are you in the same boat as me? Do write then.

I’m loving it

I’ve a confession to make. I’ve arrived on my early 30’s and I am not a least bit less enthusiastic about it. Rather I am more forthcoming than I was when I reached the 20 mark.

Hey, these are some of the listed reasons for my elated mood:

• Your age doesn't tell on you (God bless them all)
• Am more aware of what looks good on me and most importantly of what doesn’t
• No pressure to have a rich (but not so rich on the IQ department) boyfriend
• The realization that suddenly my opinion is also being asked for
• Freedom to skip parties hinting the crowd was not my type
• No constant reminders from well-wishers to “settle down”
• Having the last laugh in witnessing everybody getting married
• Sporting “the know it all” look even though I ain’t got a clue
• Finally getting to preach others “I told u so”
• Having a car of my own and the freedom to bang it (after all I am paying the bill)
• The admiring looks of men much younger coz that’s the trend these days

The list is endless and the feeling is special too. Next time don’t hesitate to ask her age. You never know she might be waiting for u to ask.

See you soon

(Note: I missed my maternal uncle on 9th Jan,2010. He was a pillar of strength to all of us in the family. This is an ode to him.)

You stood like a rock holding our hands,

Giving us the courage to carry on,

Leading us to belief that “Yes, we can”.

You taught what family truly meant,

You fought for us through the sufferings and pain,

With a smile that said, “Don’t worry, I’m fine”.

And suddenly you’re just gone.

To be with our Mami who meant so much.

Creating a hollow no time can fill.

May you both be together forever and ever.

Spreading love like you’ve always done.

As we keep waiting to meet you in the next lifetime.

The heart says, “No, you can’t be gone.”

For how can you stay away from us for so long?