Hello,
I was going to write something completely different. I love writing. I love painting. None of that I have been doing in the recent past. Is that the reason the reason I feel the way I feel?
I felt clucky last night in the gym when i was still catching up on my breath and Aai sent me a picture that said that Aditi, my niece loves drinking her chai in the same cup I did. And I just realised that I didn't even put a preference, but my mother already chose my favourite cup in that house and every morning I would wake up, every afternoon i would be home, I would have a lukewarm milky liquid waiting for me in that cup she would make it ready.
She looks at me like she knows me. But she doesn't know how I have changed. I see her see me between the lines. I see her checking me out at night if I am still asleep. If i am asleep or not or if i need anything.
She loves her son.
i wonder the way time passes.
My lovely niece, fore birth i called her Tobit thinking she'll be a boy, is growing up to be a lady.
I see her as a child. But she's intelligent. Intelligent socially. Speaks French too.
On other side of the world there is man born with a pentagonal face like me. Genetically he's my nephew, i have never met. But I think he will inherit a little look of me as he grows up.
I wonder, how the future will be when I will die and Aditi and Neil will be in their prime and shed a tear while they express their grief on some sort of a medium.
I hold a smile in disguise. I am prepared. May the death bring a sense of accomplishment not just a loss. We exist. Exist in different forms. X
AM'JO
I was going to write something completely different. I love writing. I love painting. None of that I have been doing in the recent past. Is that the reason the reason I feel the way I feel?
I felt clucky last night in the gym when i was still catching up on my breath and Aai sent me a picture that said that Aditi, my niece loves drinking her chai in the same cup I did. And I just realised that I didn't even put a preference, but my mother already chose my favourite cup in that house and every morning I would wake up, every afternoon i would be home, I would have a lukewarm milky liquid waiting for me in that cup she would make it ready.
She looks at me like she knows me. But she doesn't know how I have changed. I see her see me between the lines. I see her checking me out at night if I am still asleep. If i am asleep or not or if i need anything.
She loves her son.
i wonder the way time passes.
My lovely niece, fore birth i called her Tobit thinking she'll be a boy, is growing up to be a lady.
I see her as a child. But she's intelligent. Intelligent socially. Speaks French too.
On other side of the world there is man born with a pentagonal face like me. Genetically he's my nephew, i have never met. But I think he will inherit a little look of me as he grows up.
I wonder, how the future will be when I will die and Aditi and Neil will be in their prime and shed a tear while they express their grief on some sort of a medium.
I hold a smile in disguise. I am prepared. May the death bring a sense of accomplishment not just a loss. We exist. Exist in different forms. X
AM'JO
