The days, they pass by in the blink of an eye. Life changes in the blink of an eye; people move away – some part with us for reasons unknown, and some part with us in keeping with the fundamentals of the universe. Death snatches from us our beloved people, leaving us to mourn and strive to fill up the void their departure creates. It’s tough, this thing called life.
We grieve for the ones who loved and left and then slowly begin living a life without them around. We assure ourselves we will get over it all – the sorrow, not the person lost – but, alas, we don’t. We only get used to looking at our world differently. We adapt ourselves to the glaring absence of that one soul around whom our world once revolved.
We cry our hearts out remembering the minutest details of their last moments with us. But then, after the tears have all dried up, there comes this phase when everything feels strange. The deafening silence in the house, the sudden change in our everyday lives, the words that used to be on our lips every minute but which now stop short on realising that the person they were meant for isn’t around anymore. Everything feels unnatural. And, that’s when we learn the gory reality of life: nothing is constant.. change is constant.
It’s a week today since Chikoo’s passing. The initial two days were scary. Hubby and I dreaded staying at home – it felt so quiet, so…alien. I would get panicky by the mere thought of returning home each time we stepped out. But, I know Chikoo would never have approved of this sissiness. So, I have been keeping myself occupied to a great extent. And, funny though it may sound, but I carry Chikoo’s photo frame everywhere I go – to the bedroom at night, or place it on the dining table in such a way that he is in my line of vision whenever I peep out of the kitchen. I need this solace till the time my heart grows accustomed to that achy feeling we experience when we lose our most precious possession.
My mind often wanders to the times when my boy would drive me crazy with his incessant barking, and his arguments and counter-questions. Yes, he did that! His bark would tell me if he was complaining, arguing or throwing a tantrum. Then, I would really lose my mind, but now, when I reminisce about those moments, I smile. Thankfully, for Chikoo, there aren’t any more waterworks! He lived a wonderful life and, like everything else in this world, his heart had to cease beating, too, someday. Accepting such facts of life makes living easier, isn’t it? Well, sort of.
Today’s post is my first in a really long time. Earlier, when he was too ill, I did not have the heart to type a word. Then, since a week now, I have been having a tug-of-war with myself – to write or not to write. Finally, I decided to write this post to celebrate the gentle soul, who was my son. There isn’t much about him here. But, my future posts will have Chikoo featuring in his own special way. Hopefully, this will awaken the writing bug in me and propel me to achieve what I have been dreaming of since a long time, now.
This morning, during my heart to heart chat with Chikoo, I pleaded with him to send me a sign that he was there, somewhere, around me. I think the fact, that after a lot of debating with myself I wrote this post, is a sign that he is very much there, by my side, watching over me with his big, brown eyes, like he always did!