And just as some memories hurt, some memories heal, Mi.

Today I was up on the terrace as usual walking with Vidur. You know I walk briskly for an hour every day. Some days it is tough – because I am so distracted by the clouds and the birds.

It had rained a little earlier today and when we went up at 6 pm, everything looked beautifully fresh. It was getting close to sunset and the sun conquered the residual dark clouds, dispersing them with her warmth on her way out to the other side of the world.

Oh, twilight! Glorious twilight.

The sky was like burnished gold, Mi. Beautiful – there were cloud clusters scattered across the sky, glittering like silk cotton on fire. The kites were soaring and circling, round and round, in groups, from one patch of sky to the other. The monotony – if one could call it that – was broken by little groups of parrots streaking across like someone was chasing them. The pigeons were content with short flights from one building point to another. I love to watch the kites swooping down, they look so graceful.

As I walked, and watched, the clouds kept changing their pattern and the more I looked, the more it reminded me of those childhood days when we made those pillows and mattresses at home. We’d buy the cotton and keep it in that corner room where the pillow covers would be stuffed and stitched, with the doors shut, so the fiber didn’t spread all over the house. I’d yearn to be in the room with you but Paati would be afraid I’d feel suffocated.

After the pillows were stuffed for the day, I’d yearn for a bit of the silky white-gold colored cotton and when you gave me a little fluff of it, I’d be so excited. Holding it, I’d imagine Rapunzel’s hair. The Princess and the Pea’s bed filled with it. Snow White sleeping on a bed filled with it. Thumbelina in her little walnut shell bed with a fluff of cotton to keep her warm.

Cozy memories.
Healing memories.

Most of all, I loved sitting with you by the window, listening to you talk or sing.

And now, I am trying to …..what the photo says.

memories vidya sury