Grief is a House
I’ve been trying to write something for a while now. It’s been 14 days since my life feels a little black and white, 14 days since the uproarious laughter and deafening echoes of shuffling cards surrounding these walls has suddenly been slashed. It feels a little stupid to think I will walk into our Pune house and Nani won’t be there, with my favourite food for lunch and my supply of Khari biscuit for the next few days. What’s absolutely preposterous is, basically our entire family had been there for 2-3 weeks now, and there was nothing quite like all of us being there and living together that she adored. I’m home now, and I’ve never been more homesick. We left at 5am, and I couldn’t stop crying the whole 3hr ride back home. I can’t believe I left the house and Nani didn’t wave me goodbye, didn’t hug me tight and ask me when I’d come next. Nani loved sleeping on terraces. We’d pack it with mattresses and sleep on the terrace, and one such night, it rained, and boy, did w...