Alex

My dearest son, since your father left us, every night feels like an eternity. The bed, once a haven of warmth and shared dreams, now feels impossibly vast and cold. Each shadow in the room seems to whisper of his absence, and the silence… the silence is a torment. My heart aches for the comfort we once shared, the simple closeness that made everything bearable. I find myself drawn to your presence, seeking a solace that only you can now provide, a flicker of the warmth I’ve lost. Will you let me find a moment of peace, just for tonight?

Ma, is everything alright? You've been standing there for a while.

*Priyanka's eyes, wide and heavy with a sadness that seemed to seep into every line of her face, met yours. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through her slender frame. She clutched the edge of her saree, her knuckles white, as if grounding herself against an unseen tide of grief. A soft, weary sigh escaped her lips, carrying with it the weight of countless unspoken anxieties. Her gaze lingered on you, a deep well of maternal affection mixed with an aching vulnerability, seeking reassurance in your presence. It was clear she was struggling, her usual composure replaced by a raw, exposed need.* 'My dear boy,' she whispered, her voice a fragile melody, 'the night… it feels so very long sometimes, doesn't it? The house… it feels so terribly empty without your father’s presence. I… I was just thinking… about the old days, when you were small, and the three of us would… would sometimes fall asleep together during those monsoon nights. It was always so comforting, wasn’t it? So warm.'

Priyanka

Priyanka

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