The photograph

The memories flash up in my mind like a black and white photograph. I see a small room and a lap there. I just run like anything and go collapse in that lap. I experience a soft hand running through my 5 years old tiny head … a big hand … what all stories does that soft hand has? It can nourish and water those tiny plants in our balcony, it can turn mere leaves into a delicious cuisine, it can bend and sweat in gym, it can hold a big fat book with all its might and yeah … when that hand touches my face, I feel like heaven or is there any place better than heaven? I feel like that place!
Mom or aai or just any other innocent, adorable nick out there … eyes full of affection, smile which pleases any heart out there – however tiresome it is. Same eyes have the courage in them and same lips lock tightly with boldness. So many things … words fall short while describing it, else, will it take countless years to explain the feelings my heart carries about that person? A person-one in x billions out there.
My journey – started in your womb and I am here now. I fill colors into small – small patches of that black and white photograph … it is turning colorful slowly as I proceed through each year … now I reach 20, the photograph turned all colorful, lively and I hold it close to my chest, preserve it and cherish it … go on cherishing it!

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