Happy birthday, Mommy!

Facebook, Google, my phone, people everyone has been reminding me it's your birthday. Like I could ever forget! Like any of us could. I have been thinking about your last birthday, your sixtieth, you share your birthday with my aunt, your soulmate and you both celebrated it together. We all did the pre-celebrations at Neemrana Fort, stayed at the beautiful room which used to be the king's courtroom in the 15th century, had time under the stars, walks, dinners, pool and photo-sessions. We came back home to have a house full of people, lunch with family and dinner with your friends. J was here so was your darling Ayaan. All of us were together. You looked so beautiful and the photos tell me how happy we all were.

You loved your birthday so much and received all the love, adoration, gifts and wishes with such joy that the giver felt like he/she was the fortunate one, being able to be a part of your infectious happiness. You welcomed the party, the plans papa made, the zillion calls to wish you, everything in a way that said  - of course! its my birthday, it ought to be special and happy! I look back and realize that while we all want love, you knew how to give it in a happy way and to receive it with joy. Your family, your friends, your people have been calling me all day because they are missing you, because they don't know where to send the love they have for you, because they don't want your children to feel that they are alone. I don't know if I will ever be 'not alone' anymore but I have to say it helps and it moves me in a way I can't explain. 

It's your birthday but don't worry, you will always be young, like you always wanted. You will always be beautiful and laughing, like you wanted to be. And how do I wish you all the love in the world? You already have it, from so many people.  Happy birthday, Mommy. I miss you. 

I lost my mom. 

In the past four months, I have said these words more times that I can count, in my mind, out loud and to people. I have prepared myself every time I know I have to say or write these words and I have said them.

My mom, I lost her. They have baffled me every time I have had to say them. I lost her. They seem to suggest that I should have kept an eye on her or held her hand, not let her out of my sight, like I do with my three years old. But I did, hold her hand and kept her in my sight even when I had no inkling that I was about to lose her. I am positive, I did. I held her hand and helped her sit in the car, I smiled and waved and I looked at her till she was out of my sight as she left for the hospital with my father. I laughed with her and dressed up to go to a wedding, I wore thick layers of clothes to go to a vacation with her. I packed and unpacked with her as we traveled and returned. I looked on with her as her pride and joy, my son, played. I talked to her deep into the night as we bared our heart and souls and laughed and cried as we always did. I finally even learnt to make her tea, just the way she liked it. I did all this in the last fifteen days of her life. How is it possible that I lost her.

How is it possible? That she is gone. We did these things like we always did, like we will always have this time. Like we will always make these plans and meet every couple of months, to live our lives together, to share our time with Ayaan. Like we will always have each other, to fight and make up, to laugh hysterically, to share books and family gossip. Like I will always have her help me bring up my little boy.

I didn't know. We didn't know. Even as I cooked her meal that my dad carried to the hospital so that she could eat something she liked, I didn't know it was her last. I didn't know that it was my last, for my mom. As I waved her bye I had thought I will see her the next day and she would be home the day after.

How am I supposed to believe that she is lost to me? That she will no longer fill my days with her laughter, with her enthusiasm, with her concern, with her conversations. That she will not be calling me and that I do not have to plan my days around phone calls to her. That every time I travel, see a new place, do a new thing or eat at a new restaurant; I will have to remind myself that she will not be asking me for a review and to give her a verdict whether she should consider doing it too or not. That the one person who was always interested in my life, no matter what, is just not there anymore. 

Its difficult, every time I say it, to believe that I lost her. That she is lost to me. I am not sure how much longer it will take for me to believe that this is true. That she is gone and I am the one who is lost.

The light of day

Sometimes when you have been silent for so long that you don't even realize it. It takes someone to call out and say they were listening, that what you said mattered for you to startle and look up. To realize that as you go through the business of life, letting go of this, this place where you talk to yourself and others, is a big loss. I had forgotten how comforting this place was, I could smile, talk and be sentimental at whim. Thanks BreezerMum for calling me back.


So much has happened in the past four months that that's all I can think about, not sure of why I was not writing here for the last two years. There are some very old posts in the drafts which i have been reading, then there are the scribbled notes and emails I have written to myself and my mom in the past months. I think its time they see the light of day. I think its time to lay it bare.