Saturday, April 28, 2012


India Gate was the pretend-like-everything's-alright-in-the-family venue for most of her childhood. Only, there was probably little pretense back then; at least on her part. In retrospect maybe years later, she realizes how she was probably the glue keeping the miserable family of four together, who needed to pathologically ignore their feelings in order to survive. At least two out of them had to. She would often credit her happiness to her weak memory. She had this magical filter since the day she was born wherein she could easily forget everything she didn't want to remember. What a blessing that was! Is. But sometimes in the little tug of war between magic and memory, memory wins. Sometimes.
"I want a balloon", she said.
"It'll burst. No point.", he said. 
That was that.

I want a few balloons strung together for my birthday. 
I wish October comes soon enough - 19th October. Everything makes sense then.

1 comment:

  1. This makes me sad. I will get you balloons, if I ever see you.