I now stay in a dormitory far from home. A day before I left for Bhubaneshwar, which is where I now live, I remember sitting next to my mother as she drifted into a much deserved midday nap… And then I saw that barely much from this day forward will be known to me.
It was the most mundane of life back home that I was struggling to hold in my arms, preparing myself to leave. To the most badass woman I’ve known after my grandmom.
As i lay and watched her fall asleep, it was as though the gates of The House Of God had swung open, revealing to man all glory and angelic thought that could live.
When i glance at her now-much-older face, i don’t see wrinkles. Or laughing lines. Or crow’s feet.
I see a kindred soul. A forgotten brand of godly resilience; unparalleled grace and inimitable poise. Gentle forgiveness. I see it all this moment when i watch her chest rise up and fall down rhythmically… Breathing ever so softly.
Scars that mark her arms, having burnt herself in the kitchen a million times…
Most of which i did tend to.
As i lie beside her, my heart weeps incontrollably. Its tremors shake my mortal shell, threatening to render it numb.
The thought of miles, not just few, struggling a way between us… Snug whilst i yearn for the unconditional warmth of her loving arms, it’s too much to bear.
Time, the present, seems tedious. I look back at her once more as i write this, my insides tearing apart… I’ve almost stopped breathing.
I only long for my mother’s embrace.
PS. My eyes are brown.