off much deprived limelight

When I got home there were two packets of those sugar-coated, colorful, crunchy thingies sitting on the dining table waiting for me. Oh, the glee. The daddums walked to Batu Caves and got them for me.

This only did little in making up for me not being able to go to Batu Caves this year.

Every year since I got my favorite green Punjabi suit, I remember being a herbivor for a month to walk for Thaipusam. That was the year I felt that I could do anything. Gran had an extra pocket made in my outfit so I could keep my money for the Gods. You see I was not more than seven and when your Gran trusts you keep more than a dollar in your pocket, it feels as if you've grown beyond your years.

Preparations for the big day had to be made because it was going to be much longer than the walk to school. Every evening Uncle George and I would take walks around the neighborhood to practice. I miss these. I remember one particular one when it started raining and we simply walked on laughing all the way. The walks used to be the highlight of my day. I would try to bring something interesting back for Gran. Pebbles, wild flowers, pretty weeds... and she would actually keep them like it were her valuables.

That first year, I was awake at 3. I remember forcing down the oats, shivering to the early morning chill, and listening to ridiculously early morning radio.

She held my hand all the way for two years. I fell on my first and she fell on my second. And then it was getting ready at her place for two years. Waving goodbye after the oats was finished but coming back to tell her of my great adventure. Then it came to dropping by after the walk and painting mental pictures of what took place.

Last year, it came to be that I had no one to tell stories to.

This year, I didn't even go.

The goodies don't taste like they used to.
~ I miss her.

minx wrote at12:30 PM
1 replies

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