Dear Abha, I spent the last hour thinking about you. A small pool of feelings played nicely with my mind and took me back to you. A nice long stroke of the evening rust with speckles of blue emotions all near the pond facing the poignant dove sky. This is the picture my mind drew as it thought deeply about your love. The bag of small compelling incidents all scattered throughout my childhood was kept open on the floor and I was sitting right in the middle hovering through them left and right, some of them were sunny little delights while some were very profound and they had a permanent stench on my whole self. A few moments into this hour that I spent thinking about you, I was able to see you. Like a box of chocolates, a beautiful afternoon appeared in front of my eyes, where on the balcony of our old house I was playing with a steel plate and a glass and you were sitting on the other side, with a mala in your hand and counting the stone fruits one by one by one off the mala with the fat finger of your right hand. You used to do this every single day, counting the stone fruits so many times so that everything goes well within the family. I used to feel funny looking at you at that time, and kept myself busy to somehow lift your hands and slide into your lap without disturbing your counts. Ah ! what a lovely place to be, in the bright winter morning, all wrapped by you I could just fall asleep there and be happy forever. My heart yearns to this day, for that warmth. I sometimes think about my childhood dream of building a house in the mountains for you and me. Where we would live happily in the succulent luscious weather and our lives would be filled with our moist love. Only you and me. The meaning of the word delight, takes me back every now and then to your permanent home in my mind. I hope you understand how your love guides me through everything in life. When I feel lonely I think about you, and the delight I feel saves me every time. When I feel misunderstood, I think about how you once said, lifting my sad face that I am a quiet child and quietness has a lot of pain. You recognised my unexpressed pain, my inability to express my emotions, to this very day the same thought appears before me ahead of the first drop of tear that can fall out of my eyes. I think about you all the time.
Dear Abha, I want to think you are doing good too. I wanted to tell you I am doing okay. I feel bad and I feel good. I feel everything, even if I cannot express it. I am living a full life, I am building a new house for my new life with an ally I have chosen myself. No, he doesn’t understand me like you do, no one does. But don’t you worry he loves me, I am quite certain of it. Do you know how I know that, he never knows how to express himself either and does a lot of things that look like love to tell me about his kind of love. There isn’t a moment better defined in my life than the moment I saw your last breath coming out of you and going out of the window all those years ago. No one else was there, when you left this place to live with your beloved Gods. I miss you but I still see you. I feel good when I see you sometimes in my dream and sometimes in my thoughts but mostly when I stand in front of the mirror I find you a lot. I find the pieces of my beautiful grandmother in myself both inside and outside of me. And that is why I know what beauty is ! Beauty is my dear Abha Rani Roy, my friend for life, my beloved grandmother.
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