Reverie

  Once upon a time in my village, when telephones were yet to find a place in most households, messages travelled long distances through the post. The roads were poor, transport was limited, and communication was dreadfully slow. The days of kings, sultans, and messenger pigeons had long passed; hence, birds no longer arrived bearing encrypted messages tied to their necks or feet. One could only rely on the humble telegram as the fastest means of urgent communication. A trunk call could be made, but it was expensive and not always easy to arrange. So, whenever a telegram arrived, people gathered around with curiosity and concern, for it usually carried news that could not wait. It was a time when India was at war. Soldiers were either deployed at the front or stationed at various military bases on standby. My grandfather, who was serving in the Indian Army, had also been recalled to duty with immediate effect, along with several of his colleagues who had been enjoying leave at ho...

                                      Who hasn’t chased shadows? As children, we turned around in wonder at that black figure trailing behind us, miming our every movement in silence. The long and short shapes it took under the blazing sun often reminded me of the distorted mirrors I once saw at an exhibition where one stretched me into a ribbon, another shrank me into a balloon. I still remember the excitement of making strange figures with my hands and body, watching my shadow religiously imitate every antic. I loved riding my bicycle fast just to see the hair of my shadow fly in the wind. Sometimes, I would loosen my grip on the handlebars and lift my arms wide, only to watch my shadow wobble and tumble beside me. There were no inhibitions then — no fear, no restraint. My shadow loved following me everywhere, and I loved its company. I never felt alone. But as we grow older, we begin to...

    A kiss that carried all the love unexpressed, emotions untold, and thoughts undelivered in a single moment - that was my mother’s kiss on my forehead on my wedding day, when I bent to receive her blessings before stepping into a new chapter of my life. The impact of that one kiss - perhaps the last she ever gave me, has overshadowed the thousands that came before. Her kindness, brilliance, strong will, and resilience have always mesmerized me. I loved the way she smelled - when she hugged me, her warmth enveloped me in a soothing fragrance I could never quite decipher. It still amazes me that, at times, I sense that very same fragrance when I hold my daughters close or press a kiss upon their foreheads. And so, though I love my children deeply, I find myself hugging them whenever I can, just to feel you near me. Selfish of me, isn’t it? But I cannot help it. Amma, you were so beautiful. When you smiled, a gentle shyness lingered on your face. The slight tilt of you...