Today, while talking to aunty R, I remembered Gorikhala, her nod, her bashful way of crossing legs over at the ankles, her cheeky grin and overwhelmed, I smile, nod, my eyes threatening to spill over. And she too is quiet, waiting for something. How slowly she walks. She tells me it is hard. This world is a blink of the eye, I say and I think she knows I mean well.
And the world is changing, death at doors, change around corners, new life too and the things I thought I would not miss I do, and the things I thought I would, I don’t.
Age stands ahead, bowed, there is a sunset at the corners of my world.