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NOSTALGIA AND MEMORIES | FEBRUARY COMPETITION
An Empty Chair
The things they left behind
A chair. How can a chair be intertwined with a person I love so much?
We humans cannot let go of the traces of people we hold dear, even when they are long gone. That way, we still feel their existence in our hearts. They are living with us, every day.
A few lines about myself might add some context to this story.
I was raised in a conventional Indian joint family, a typical setup in which my grandfather's entire extended family lived under the same roof.
Ill luck hit me at an early age— I lost my mother, even before I learned to recognize her.
It was my aunt who took care of me as a mother. She never made me feel the void. Not a single time.
She was my all – a mother, a friend, a philosopher, a guide- all wrapped in one.
She would give me my favorite snacks when I came home from school. Often on lazy evenings, we would gossip about that teacher who was too strict in school. She would also spoil me by giving me the ice cream my dad had denied.
As I grew up, she turned into my bestie and no topic was off-limits between me and her. We would talk about the boy I wanted to…
