Scribbles and stories.

"Omanathinkal Kidavo", A familiar song, but an unfamiliar voice. It's been years since Rahel and Estha have last heard this song. She used to sing this, very often. This was their song, Ammu's favourite song. Today, after all these years those emotions rush back and hit them all of a sudden. Had they forgotten her? That long black hair, eyes full of sadness and hands which embraced them.  Full of love; Their Ammu, their mother.  Holding hands, they listen to the rest of it.  Half asleep, they are in a far away land. Where love was not questioned. For love was the answer.  With Ammu by their side, holding them close. They smiled at the familiar song, now sung by the familiar voice.  For now, they are home. They are loved.     "Omanathinkal Kidavo, Nalla Komala Thamara Poovo, Poovil Niranja Madhuvo, Pari poornendu thande nilavo"

She sat on her big veranda and slowly opened the cover. A letter inside. Aamaya was always fond of letters. For her, a letter is not just a piece of paper filled with letters but rather emotions. As she unfolds it, her heart wrenches. There is hope, a part of her is curious and, another devastated. As she starts reading it, she smiles through her tears. She can hear that voice reading it for her. It's not she who is reading it, but them narrating. Those stories, moments, words brought all those memories and all of a sudden everything hits back. Nostalgic? No, much more than that. And that moment, that very moment she wished for the universe to pause. The smell of old paper and blue ink. And that handwriting, she could never forget. As she touched it, she felt their presence, those emotions; raw and just. As words became sentences and sentences to paragraphs; she wished for this letter to never end. Vigorously she reads but not wanting it to end. How selfish we become, sometimes. Is...