Without You

Mom, sometimes, when I start imagining my life without you, I paint a picture in my head, which is not at all bright.

I would fill my room with your belongings—your clothes, your bangles, your bindis, your purse, your mobile phone—that would remind me of you. Maybe this would be my way to keep you close. I would often smell your clothes to feel your presence around me. Missing your bittersweet taunts, I would scold myself every now and then. Missing the dishes you made, I would cook daily. Without you, kitchen would never be a happy place. On my bad days, I would caress my face, imagining my hands to be yours, and on my good days, I would look at your photo and bless myself on your behalf.

Mom, there would never be a day when I would not shed a tear, wishing you were here. Without you, a part of my heart would always be empty, and every day, in desperation, I would hope to meet you in heaven.

—Amrit Versha