(May 8, 9:59pm)

I thought I was the most unhappy child, when, in those many years of long, silent afternoons, I would wait for mom to return..

Standing quietly by the seventh floor window, and checking out impulsively at every car, auto, or rickshaw that snailed towards us in the road below.. hoping it would stop and muma would come out..

XXX

And when she would not, look at the vehicle disappear from view... and then the sky, which, in those many odd hours, would have changed its hue from blue to red and fiery orange, and then an envelope of dark grey...

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In retrospect, I think mom intuitively prepared me to handle loneliness.. Had she been any other mother (though in so many ways she was), always available and unreasonably doting, it would be difficult to handle whatever it is now...

XXX

Between he never bothered to call back.. I think he's happy having put the blame on me rather than correct his own indifference and reach out to me..

XXX