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Etched Memories

I didn’t pay much attention to what was said about her; it felt as if I had discovered a lost star. We talked at length, and the past played out like a movie, with memories of old times flowing like a river. I listened with rapt attention. She had been diligent and dutiful in her prime. I heard stories about her that made me long to see her. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t visit her during my younger years. Although she sent gifts to my siblings and me, we still wished to see her in person, not just smile at her portrait. As she spoke, I smiled and recalled that my brother and I were supposed to see her a few years ago. I remembered the drama that ensued, particularly my uncle's lingering anger about their nonchalant attitude when my father went beyond. I remembered that she left heartbroken. We received her gifts but missed out on her warm embrace. I felt pained by those memories, yet I still wore my smile. It was an enjoyable moment with her as we drove back home. She showed me the places where she had lived, where her friends and siblings had lived. She marvelled at how much those places had changed and smiled as she reminisced. When I returned home, she travelled back after three days. Soon, the gloomy days fell upon us. A stranger who held her captive entered her life. Gradually, she lost her grip on her world. What wasn’t obvious to me at the time now seemed clear: she struggled with a monster, fighting against the darkness until it cloaked her. She was the last of her siblings, bruised by the loss of two of her children but brave enough to rise and continue. She found hope in the twilight places and fought the good fight. Her meadow bloomed, but eventually, it was shrivelled by the unseen.

Memories are fiery stars
The mind is the sky
Bruised by their arrival 


August 24, 2025.

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