THE SHADE OF OUR LIVES

                 It was 26^th December 2004. I remember watching the horrendous tsunami videos on television. And  your silent sighs. Exactly seven years later, a tsunami rose in our lives. When the tides retreated, we saw no more of you. We knew you were mortal but your departure shocked us.

The last time I saw you, you were reclining peacefully on the divan. Just like a baby. And that was almost six months ago. Maybe it was supposed to be etched in my memory – your image – calm and gentle.

I remember  the flicker of your smile. It lighted up your face. Those expressions are  ingrained in my mind. Did you know you never aged in these two decades  that I saw you ? I guess you did. I remember your favourite dishes. Your  occasional jokes and interesting banters. Your aversion to starched  white clothes. Your knack for  correct  grammar.The mango trees. The brinjal plants. Your book ( I guess I have to find it out  now).

You  are missed a lot Grandpa.