How do you even begin to miss someone who is not around with you anymore? She was a constant in my life, she reminded me of my culture and what I sometimes chose to forget.
I am hardly north indian in looks even to the point where I wish sometimes that I was more like my sister. She treated me like I was the cutest chinese grand daughter she ever set her eyes on. I was and still am treated very differently from my other cousins. Visiting her when she was ill, I am glad that I did not ignore that duty. She met the guy whom I considered to be special even to this day.
Nevermind, she felt that he was more suitable for my sister.
Browsing through pictures of me and her and it is a painful realisation that I miss her scent, her presence and her voice. Maybe, I took her for granted all those years, but I can tell you that I truly miss her. Remembering her last days fondly, I reminisce the Sunday afternoons where I would visit her and irritate her with my endless queries.
Asking of memories of my grand father, a man I never met. Mindless drivel at that time, she is the kindest woman I know. This lady would watch the news without fail and would pray to every God and she knew of. Jesus, Kali, Buddha. She has them all.
If anything, I remember that she ruled with an iron fist and possessed a heart of pure gold. It has been a year that she’s left and there is an awkward silence in the air. Sometimes, it is easy to forget that she is gone and I would go over to my cousin’s place half expecting her to ask me what I had for dinner and if I have studied. Reaching the empty white chair, I stand alone knowing that there is no way I will ever hear her call my name.
I just wish that she would have had a great grand child before she departed to another world. I regret not doing that for her. i hope that she understands that I still love her regardless and that one day when I have that child, I will teach my child everything she taught me. To love and be loved. To live each day to its fullest and most of all, to appreciate culture and tradition because one ought to. and not cos one has to.
I used to dislike my last name. cos’ it reminded me how un-indian I was.
Now, that she is gone. It seems to be the only link left to my memory of her.
