Dear Meethi Ma
In two hours it is going to be a full week. I have to pinch myself hard to realise what is happening. It still does not sink in. Your physical form is gone, leaving us to learn to live a life without your voice and touch.
I miss you. Papa misses you and so does everyone present or not present here. You always wanted to go without being dependent on anyone and you did that.
Last week at this time we were all together celebrating our union. Remember the small bite of papri chaat that you took? You threw out the papri but had some more of the curd and chatni. You also had your favourite ParleG biscuit with malai. That was always comfort food for you and me. A few days earlier when you found it difficult to walk, you asked Nitish to take you downstairs at 10 at night. For a change, you did not mind the wheel chair. Neither did you mind people turning to look at you. Papa was scared. But you were like this young carefree girl who wanted to live life on her own terms. It started raining and you insisted on getting wet. I could see the joy on your face. I could feel the calm in your eyes. The next morning you stopped talking. We were shocked. But you started communicating with us using your eyebrows. I felt gradually you were getting lost in your own world. You could see and feel things that we could not. And in my heart I knew we were getting close to losing your physical form. Through the next 3 days, you started sinking in more and more. But whenever I called you Meethi ma you gave me the best smile ever. Whenever anyone came forward to meet you, you greeted them with a shine in your eyes. And those moments have become our ‘roses in December’.
They say time is the best healer. It perhaps is. From a week, it will soon be a month, a year and so on. But no matter how healed we are, you will always be missed!