And the vacuum can never be filled!

 It was five pm in the evening and I just got up from a long power nap. Long enough to wash the laziness of ages but the hectic day had rendered it ineffective. Lazily, rubbing my eyes as I walked through the lobby towards the washroom I saw my mother sitting on the dining chair talking over phone. She sounded angry. She was complaining about somebody who did not have the courtesy to come home early from work to help in planning a lunch for about a thousand guests. ‘How rude! How irresponsible! ‘, she said. I wondered who was on the phone. Listening and containing the wrath of a lady is a difficult task, after all. ‘Must be chaai ji ( that’s what everybody calls my naani maa)’, I thought. It was a usual routine for my mom. In the evening before tea she would call my naani ma and detail the days happenings,  in her school , at home. About family and fun and fights. About new clothes , functions coming up! About the weather, outside and inside! Of course the ghar ghar ki kahaani stuff was an important chunk of the discussion. It’s ladies’ birthright, you see. And no matter how big the turmoil was, both of them, had solutions to each other’s problems! It wasn’t just a mother daughter relationship. The sound of a merrily flowing river could be heard when my mom laughed at my naani’s jokes. The aroma of love that emanated from the conversation made everything look perfectly beautiful. It was a magical friendship of two souls. ‘Anyways, see you at six then.’ , she said. So naani ma was coming over. ‘Wow that calls for a feast now!’, I said to myself already bubbling  with the thought. Her coming to our home had always been a special occasion for each one of us-me , mom , bhai ,and papa and not to forget the maids who were at their chirpiest and special humbly submissive mode!  She was a mother to almost everyone she had met even once. Her almost once an year visits meant -being awake till late (once at 2:30 in the night , me and naani maa were trying my bangles and bracelets! She was eighteen at eighty.),early morning bed tea gossips with me lying in her lap and the rest of us sitting around her, it meant plain sheer joy, it meant that the most intense feeling of love blanketed the air.

She was an epitome of positivity more so because never had she refuted an ear! Her words were pure sugar. Her looks were as serene as the pristine white snow, her eyes lined by the silver lining on the clouds, heavens had gifted her hope that she spread so effortlessly, her body heavy carrying the weight of around eight decades yet her radiant smile spoke of the merry sixteen. Her beauty immeasurable, her persona so graceful that words fall short to describe, her love boundless!

I was wandering in my own world, smiling at the lovely relation in my mind. And thanks to my absent mindedness I soon banged my head on the washroom door not realizing it was shut. I was never in my perfect senses right from my birth but nowadays I had grown more lost, often walking through walls ,crashing against shut doors, all humanly impossible acts

.

As I saw the broken handle of the door, lightening struck me! I realized   things were not the same as before. Life had become as distorted as the handle. Time had changed! I quickly turned back to see tears in my moms eyes. She wasn’t talking to naani ma on the phone! She was speaking to my mamu regarding the lunch they had to host at my naani ma’s uthala on the tenth day of her death. The sorrow of the surroundings said that this vacuum can never be filled even with the entirety of this mighty universe!