To refer to you in past tense like all others …

To not allow my voice to quiver and eyes to blur each time I write something about you …

To not feel giddy when I sit on that bed, on which I have created some of my bestest childhood memories …

To come to open that “treasure chest” you so safely guarded, for I know that I would break down when I see the contents (all our childhood “complaint” letters to you neatly stocked and a lot more)…

To fight the urge to instinctively reach for the phone and call you every morning …

To not crave for the sandalwood smelling white linen and the frail fingers that used to put me to the most peaceful sleep…

To not kiss those never-ending debates and fights and you keeping an account of what all to reimburse from the man I marry…

To not wonder at your last promise to me and think if you really meant it…

To not thank you at your parting gift and hate you for not sticking around to see it …

To touch a chocolate today and not cringe at the thought of lighting an incense stick!

To accept that the seeds of creativity, thought you had sewed flourished in the book, yet you are not there to read it. My favorite story is on our relationship, and yet whenever I read it aloud, I feel there’s so much I have missed to tell…

To come to imagine that the little pair of feet that totters around the house doesn’t have you around to spoil her. It’s difficult to imagine a child being raised in the family without having your hand around. She’d know you I’m assured but then only I know what she misses out on …

To not crave every single day that I’d give up anything to hear you call me out by that special name once … Just once!

To come to terms with the fact, that it’s been a year of losing my childhood!

 P.S: It’s good to have a clear memory, but sometimes when you can narrate a day minute by minute and re-live through tear-stained eyes and see it in your dreams, you just wish the calendar skipped a date, maybe then it would all be a nightmare and life would be the same again!