My Constants

To all the sleepless nights you spent, ma, nursing my 4 year old self back to health after that particularly nasty bout of flu and those late night trips to the medical store, dad, for getting the correct tablet.

I still remember the pride twinkling in your eyes when I had my first – ever stage performance in pre – KG. Ma had tears glistening in her eyes while dad had clapped the hardest.

I’d drape one of ma’s old sarees and pose in front of the mirror, wanting to become like her, in whichever way possible.

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I’d run to dad when he came back from office late in the evening and he’d lift me into his arms and cradle me till I was dizzy with laughter.

On growing up, I’d tell ma every tiny detail after school and she’d listen patiently while bustling about in the kitchen.

Being forced to cut short my ‘play time’ and being made to study for a petty class test infuriated my adolescent self but I couldn’t do much, so life went on.

My older teenage – self fought and rebelled hard when I wasn’t given the smartphone of my choice, but you handled even those tantrums!

It was a time when friends seemed more important than family and freedom was the ultimate goal of life.

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Life must’ve been so amused by this rebellious streak of ours.

Little did we know that we’d end up back at square one, once away from home, craving all that unadulterated love, bereft of those cat – dog fights with our siblings, lacking that constant pillar of support and wondering how people change so quickly.

 

Sukriti Tiwari

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