A week by Myself..

The husky voice of Adele fills the room, "never mind I'll find someone like you". I pause and look around. The sky looks lovely with clouds creating beautiful patterns reflecting the light of  the sun setting in the  west. A gentle gust of wind enters in. The apartment is not in its perfect shape since past few days as my mom and dad are out in the southern part of the country handing over the sole responsibility of  Flat #5B, Block B to me. And I have left no stones unturned personalizing it. The line of empty water bottle on the dresser, the used cups of coffee on the table.. The glasses, books, pillows, laptop, tangled cables of adapters, the empty packet of munchies all in perfect harmony on my bed. I ignore the disturbing vision of the pile of clothes on the chair , as if frowning at me, asking to be picked up.

 I get up to light the incense sticks. My mother has been reminding me everyday during her calls not to forget watering the Tulsi plant and light the incense sticks at the dawn and dusk(if I am at home). Well dawn for me has been postponed to around 11:30AM in the morning. Recently she had frowned at me seeing a bunch of coriander plants growing  from her priced Tulsi pot! Yes, I was curious to know whether the coriander seeds we get from the market do actually turn up into a herb.

But I was able to convince her with  "It must be the birds, maa!!", and she had replied "Oh, don't pluck them off then, it must be a sign". She often tells this dialogue, and as a child I used to believe it , wondering what these signs ever meant.

The incense sticks fills the rooms with its soothing scent which reminded me of her even more. I think whenever I will start a family of my own, wherever it may be,  I shall always light incense sticks to remind me of my roots.

 I look across the window and see a man, dressed in white, wearing a white skull cap entering the cemetry. He kneels down beside a grave. Somehow I am able to feel his pain of missing a loved one.

I call up my parents and end up answering my father whether I lock the doors properly and my daily diet to my mother, thanking almighty that I have my loved ones a phone call away atleast  and that they will be back in a few days.

The man is slowly walking away now, head bent.