Wednesday, October 15, 2008

That crisp old morning

It’s that very morning, familiar yet new, crisp with a sprinkle of the sun and a light mesmerizing touch of the wind. It’s that very morning which I have known since long. Full of warmth and excitement, holding her hand tightly I used to skip a beat, “hurry up amma, nani must be waiting”! Those were the days when my mom used to drop me to our private crutch, my nani’s house. With a tiny tiffin box stuffed with Maggie, which went hard by the time I ate it ,coz I knew there were a lot many mouth watering treats in store for me, kept carefully aside by my nani , least someone would pounce on them. But what was more important was to reach my nanu and sit besides her…doing nothing…absolutely nothing. After some time “I” used to come out to play, being younger by a year and a half , he was my constant companion. The consequences of all our adventures together were shared equally, be it catching the butterflies or making holes in the good old chetak owned by mamu. Nanas ambassador was a treat for both of us, whoever took out the car, we used to be the first ones to occupy the rear seat , counting every house that came on our way. But whatever said or done, my nani was my world, my mother till 1:00 in the afternoon and my friend for life. When the clock struck one, and there was a thud at the door , I used to run across the lawn to receive amma. Making a naughty face it was a duty for my nani to make her favourite comment, “so now that her amma is here, S will forget her nani”, it had become a ritual with me to run back and hug her as soon as I heard the familiar lines ……the lines that I remember till date , the lines that take me back in her memories where I play with my friend , my companion , my mother….my nani. Your warmth can never be forgotten, your love has made me who I am today…..I wish I could bring you back from the heavens , but since I am not the pari you used to talk about in your stories, I can’t do anything about it. But wherever you are …you’ll be a part of me ………. a precious piece of my memories , which’ll forever be intact.