That’s the thing Maa

I don't feel home when I am home, the fragrance have been lost, every time the curtains were washed her last touch was gone, her divine presence was taken away and I have no other way to disgust my anger on anyone, I could break things but they won't stop my fever from travelling my emotions. It's so strange that where once the kitchen fulfilled my demands are seeking my strange gestures now, why there is so much going on around me, I can't handle much before it burst me into pieces. Yes indeed sometimes our emotions are important as necessary as the heart the mind must act active and healthy, neglecting much of its nagging attention I have already done so much un~justification to myself. Who would just understand if I am hungry because sometimes I am not aware of it. My cupboard demands attention and my room is equally waiting for few hands on dust. It's tiring to know that I will have to wash my clothes all alone and it's really sophisticated to understand but then there is something missing.
Maa! Probably she is missing.
It's been years and time couldn't heal it, may be with age I needed her the most.
Many birthday went and many celebrations still awaits but all that I craved was her one touch, te magical 'everything will be alright now' touch. Her voice when I came home from long showers of office, my empty tiffin box and many more of what awaits my own attention. Germany was a place to be but it reminds me of our old trips, the cousine was awful yet I have managed through it, they lack a touch, they lacked her magical touch.
Everywhere I go I hold her hands, a piece of her clothes she had wore.y eyes leave tartly glands but the emotional conflict is still on its arrivals. I have had many such things and these are getting out to my resistance. The more I try to avoid it, the more it appears back to me. I hold and cry but that doesn't help. I need more to this life. I crave for MAA. About her untold bravery that she gave me in inheritance, about the blessings on her feet, the spoon full of curd mixed with sugar, her touch and celebrations.
My small mistake made her no offence, my smallest achievement made her smile all along, she gave me reason to think more. This home sounds so pathetic to me now, empty unwashed draining walls, smelly paint over to its grills, rusted window shed and few paintings trying to adjust its place. I was fortunate to be in the environment which everyone desires, I am just following her smell, making myself regenerate with the fact that she might not come back but she will always stay.

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