I received the call at 7.45 AM. My heart skipped a beat as the name stared at me from the mobile phone. I knew before being told.
‘I lost Reshma today’; ‘I lost a friend’.
Reshma is my friend’s daughter. My heart broke. She was her only child.
Condolences are due. Condolences..? What does one say? All will be well? Be strong? It’s inevitable. One day we all have to go. She’s always with you, around you, near you, watching over you…? All words sound so vain. All my friend would think will be:
My daughter’s soul will be with me? Around me? Watching over me?
With me? Around me? Watching over me? Reverberating through her numb mind.
That’s not enough. Is that enough? I want to look at her. Feel her. Physically, be able to hug her. But, the medium that connected me to my daughter’s soul is not there. There’s a void. And I can’t touch souls. I can’t touch, feel, laugh, cry, scold, sulk with a soul.
I can’t hold her. Cuddle her. Rest my head in her lap. She can’t rest in my lap. She can’t hug and cuddle me. I will miss her hugs, her cuddles, lying beside her, sharing a laugh, bending double over a joke. I will miss our fights, our fall outs, our generation gap.
What will I do with soul of my daughter that has shunned earthly bond with me.
I just want to be a soul. To be with her soul.