Those Sundays...

Then, every home buzzed with activity...lots of cooking, eating, talking, friends and family. Roads were empty and homes were full. Now, roads are jammed, malls are crowded and homes are empty.

Special delicacies...dad at home...morning TV...oh those Sundays...it was a weekly festival day. The pungent smell of cigarette smoke and the aroma of mummy's chicken curry...the remnants of those days that I still carry...Getting up late, excited about watching Rangoli and Spiderman on TV. Afternoon carrom matches with dad and daughter on one side and bro n mom on the other. The little fake skirmishes; calling the other cheaters...the warmth at home...Sunday was truly the family day. Sunday is still the fun-day but perhaps the definition of fun has changed...

A heavy heart

I feel weighed down by my heart. The weight is dragging me to the abyss of self-pity and anger. The uncontrollable urge to let go of this overflowing turbulence...the anger at being so vain....I can't feel the beat...just this wet, drenched feeling...