Reverie

  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 neglect that constant companion. Instead, we find ourselves chasing more elusive shadows. Our principled selves, burdened by ...

    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...