I wake up this morning with a slight flutter in my heart. Launch day. Next week. Kolkata. My childhood home. The sharp sunlight. Birds fluttering. The silhouette of Ma in her flimsy Gariahaat nightie. Her cherubic arms aflutter. Mangaladis ruby red lips parted. Speculating on the fish preparation. For lunch. Calls to be made. Invitations pending. Cards in my suitcase. In a bright, orange packet. That I still have to unpack. What if everything just stayed this way? I asked. The world around me. Distanced from the one inside. The one that just likes to watch. A day to myself. With Meera. And then I scroll down my Facebook Timeline. The question is does Meera win eventually and more importantly, can we stop judging her? Words from Sanjitha Rao Chaini. In Mumbai. A journalist I admire. Its time to get up.
Posted on: Mon, 21 Apr 2014 03:50:50 +0000
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