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Wednesday, December 12, 2012


Shanaya woke up. Startled. He was nowhere to be seen. It took her a while to realise that they weren't together anymore. A series of images flashed through her mind. She had a weird way of defining what love was. It was when his hand strayed to her plate, to grab that string of cheese or carrot. It was when he knew when she wanted to eat a chicken pizza. It was when he woke her up to tell her to open the door. It was when she knew he wanted ice candy and found it in her grocery bag. Small things. 

Then he left. And it was like someone seizing a pool float from an amateur swimmer. Creaking memories, like water, gushed into her ears and nose. Crazy ones. Bitter ones. Loving ones. He was her father. He has filled in that void, and treated her like a princess. Once in a while, she wondered why he wouldn't make that cup of tea or lay a Spanish omelette on a bed of soft bread. But that was him, and she loved him unconditionally for what he was. He knew he would fall back and land up on her lap. 

Once the separation, she felt that lack, a lack that could never be filled up. It had been a while that someone held her tight, brushed her hair and told her that everything would be alright. She wouldn't step into the pool anymore, because she'd forgotten how to love someone who's not him. She'd rather sit back comfortably on a pool chair and watch the others have fun. Tethering on the edge of insanity, she wondered if it’d be better to let go or hold on...

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs fromYashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.