Till 10th standard in school, I hated sundays, because it was followed by a monday and monday's were not my days. The little girl inside still feels same on some days , you know it when the following Monday has not much to offer.
The only good thing is that finally its summers and its time for the light bright , colorful clothes. As i packed the black, blue and maroons, i took out whites, pinks, peaches. I hate winters, you have to carry so much load on already loaded life. Summers drain you, kill you but there is hope.
Towards evening walked in my house my only surviving grandparent , rest have left. Looking at him I wondered, he was the scariest of the rest three, he ate (non-vegetrian), drank ( alcohol, even today), screamed and loved getting pictures clicked, in short the worst of rest three, they were god fearing, vegetarian , teetotalers and look who survived. Now that others have gone, suddenly his heart has started pumping and we see a soft caring man. I wondered did my grandmother left her heart with him, because this cant be a change of heart at this age.
He asked about my work and next travel plans and adjusting his big old frames, took out something from his pocket. I had a smile, I thought my auto fare for the week was covered. But no he showed me a scribble , an urdu writer showed me two lines written in English.
I put my heart and soul in my work,
and have lost my mind in the process.......
And I wonder how do these parents and grandparents know what you arr going through and always have wisdom to offer.
1 comment:
Thats a lovely post smriti! Where have you been hiding all these days??
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