The Suitcases ...

The corner of my room has a couple of suitcases sitting quietly, patiently, waiting to be unpacked.

It’s been over a month since I returned from Chennai. It is scary how easy it is to regain a semblance of normalcy & resume your routine, no matter how big your loss has been.

The two most important people in my life, who were not just my parents, but were responsible for the individual I shaped into, are not around anymore; Yet life moves on, food is cooked, housework happens, you go for your walks, watch your TV shows, spend time with friends & relatives, interact on social media & on the surface, you almost fool yourself that all is kind of well …

But then, those suitcases, unpacked & unattended to, make me confront the painful reality that this is the last time I will return from Amma-Appa’s house, with bags bursting with everything under the sun - from rasam powder, bright, happy clothes which delighted Amma, documents & bank stuff, carefully packed by Appa, old photographs stolen from the family collection … & the smells, of hot, flavored sambhar, of the odonil from Amma’s cupboard, of Appa fresh from his shower, filling the air with the scent of talcum powder and generously sprayed perfume, of the music in the air, from MS’s divine voice, to old hindi film songs, the sounds of the servants being scolded, of Amma excitedly chatting on the phone with her siblings, the aroma of coffee, carefully prepared by Appa in the wee hours of the morning … A lifetime, of being loved unconditionally, packed into those two suitcases.

So the unpacking will have to wait. Till I can breathe normally, till the knot of pain in my stomach melts, till I can look at photographs of Amma-Appa, which dot my walls & not want to physically hug them, till I cannot feel totally devastated that milestones will happen in our lives, graduation, weddings, children … without their physical presence, though the love and blessings hug you like a warm, soothing blanket forever!