One bad day,
Wanting to go back to the times when things were so much simpler,
I walked into a fancy toy store shelved with toy cars and teddy bears and Barbie dolls,
but came out empty handed.
I still clearly remember those cold afternoons
when the sound of the rain evaded the atmosphere,
you would sit on the kitchen floor, with your legs crossed
wrapping that feather blanket around you and
with the cue of the first thunder, I would run to come find you
You would readily let me sit on your lap and
quickly tuck me in, making sure that there was no way that the cold outside could get to me.
We would stay huddled up like that for as long as I wanted to and
one after another,
you’d tell me stories
of good mice and bad men
of a clever little girl and a foolish demon
of a prince,
who in search of his little brother would sing the story of how they got separated in the woods because of their evil stepmother.
The two would eventually find each other and live happily ever after.
And then,
you’d sing
you weren’t exactly the world’s best singer,
but that never mattered
because you are the only person who has sung for me.
Those days,
all my sorrows would fit inside the warmth under the blanket and melt away
my sobs would vanish with the melody of your lullaby
So much that if comfort was a person, baajya, I would give him your name
So on bad days,
I wish I could relive my childhood
and reverse time so that I could fit into your lap again.
I should have known better but
The other day,
in a fancy toy store shelved with toy cars and teddy bears and Barbie dolls,
I went to buy my childhood
but came out empty handed.
When I returned home that night,
you were fast asleep
so I gingerly walked up to your bed
rested my bag on your side table and
slipped into the familiar warmth that embraced me like a child then
listening to you breathe,
I drifted myself, smilingly, to sleep.
The writer can be reached at emailyukta@gmail.com.
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