Heart at home

In a couple of hours from now, before the Sun gets his chance, Ammuma would be up. She would bathe and lit the lamp and chant the slokas. But today, it would be slightly different. She would pray more, kneel down a little longer and read a few pages extra from the Bhagavad Gita. By that time, Ammayi would be up, boiling water for tea and switch off the verandah lights.
Then the children would wake up, one by one, and the household would turn into a beehive. Bath and breakfast. Idli sambhar chutney. With their new clothes on, they would then go pick flowers, in blue red white purple green and yellow; yellow always dominating.

Ammuma would sit in the corner of the verandha, watching the ruckus - how the flower colors should be co-ordinated, what the design theme should be and the associated hubbub. She would sit in that corner, and think of you and me. She would close her eyes for a moment and remember how little we were and how soon we grew up. And grew away. She will think of each one of us, longing and yearning to see us all. Missing us dearly, wishing us the very best in life.

For, no Onam is ever complete without a thought to the loved ones in our life.

Happy Onam.