Panting with your love
It is that time of the year when I delve deeper into your love. When I recall the time we met for the first time. When I cherish your company. We are no more together but it does not take away your aroma. It is only that I inhale that while panting. Ali Farzan, the little yoga master, is no more around to tell amma how to longer the breath-span. Worry not; amma is trying her best to remain how your mother should be so will improve on this.
I am recalling the morning walk I imposed on you in the last summer vacations. The ten rounds of the park were a pain and your complaints of waking up early were not getting any shorter. Every day in those two months I thought you will stop in the middle and will make me walk on my own. You-the pure heart-did not know any way to protest except to walk in the opposite direction. Whenever we crossed each other on the track I could see the grim on your face, but you continued. You did not come to know how to refuse any thing amma asked.
Now I have no clue if I will enjoy the same authority when we meet. I have no idea of the accommodations I will need to make due to the arising maturity of my hero. This year you would have turned 13. I did not wait for anything more than this time to come. I wanted you to come out of childhood so I can open my heart more to you. You always thought that you were my adviser and you were right. But secretly amma was playing games and was keeping the serious things away. I longed to declare on your 13th birthday that now we will act like two elders. I wanted you to be more into the crime partnership. I wanted to hand over more power to you. I have to wait more for that time to come.