One of the stories mama told me started like this: she and khalammi had taken the car out for the first time, khalammi a nervous driver behind the wheel, mama riding shotgun. At one point, the car grazed another man’s car, and immediately stalled. A crowd gathered while the girls sat petrified with horror, and… Continue reading Of Khalammi
Some thoughts, a year on. The primary way I seem to have dealt with things is that I have locked almost all the memories of my mother in a tight strongbox inside my chest – to open it is to release so many thoughts of her, all of which cause me so much pain. It… Continue reading More on Grief
It was in the staff takeaway shop that I saw a tray of red velvet cake slices and felt a deep sadness that I couldn’t even understand until much later, when I remembered that my mother had asked me to get her a piece some days before she died. That is how the grief appears in… Continue reading Of Grief.
I saw a pink van today. After so long. And I thought of you. You would’ve been 18 by now. And I would give all the pink vans in the world just to be with you again. 12-12-07 . Rest in Peace.