Dear Mom,

It has been a long, long time. Only in the last few years have I had the courage to put my scribbled diary pages online. To share things about you. Make people laugh and cry with your memories.

It is something that had been pending for a while. A part of the wound that was left aside. Not even wanting to heal.

If you would have been here I would have probably taken you out. Shopping maybe? Or a nice movie. We know you would have loved that. And gotten you that silk saree you would have been eyeing for months. But not buying out of sheer guilt of having to spend so much.

Some of these online people now know you. They ping me. Question me about you. Marvel at the things you taught us so early. Courage of sharing you with them pays off in these little moments.

Something surprising happened. Last night, Rumi mausi shared one of your song recordings. Honestly, one second into it and I had broken down. It seemed like not a day had passed. You were there. Right around me. Humming a song and trying your new saree. Being the narcissist that you were when it came to things, probably proudly proclaiming how you are totally going to rock the next party.

Tomorrow will be just another day. Another twenty four hours of fighting things and life. Will miss you every now and then but dismiss it to carry on with time.

Every mothers day, your birthday and unfortunately that day in September as well, I devote all my time to you. Unknowingly in some cases. I allow myself to be that thirteen year old again. I allow myself to be that five year old as well. Let the vagaries of those times hit me.

Of course in such times living with me becomes tough. I can cry at the drop of a hat. Talk on and on about you and me. Thankfully people around now just know. They let me be.

How tough that was. To let myself be. With you not around I never quite spoke my mind. With age and people, things have changed. I speak a lot more about you now.

Last few words might never deserve a re-read. If they do they will be backspaced.

But I do wish to tell you one thing, you are missed. Like others say about their mothers I will also say. You deserve a thought and mention all the three sixty five days, but woman some days you simply cannot be dismissed. You come back in those memories I avoid. In those moments I keep for idle times.

Thank you for having me as your child. I know someone up there thought I did a couple of things right to deserve so.

Until next life and next time.

Love

Richu.

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