You.

You. 

A year ago, you were on your bed, hardly speaking or moving. But still, you remembered us, some you called the diamonds of your eyes. 

A year before that, you were on your feet greeting us with the tender kisses that was your trademark on meeting us. You wobbled through the house doing all the chores that you loved doing, that made you feel alive and well. 

You. 

You, in your blouse and petticoat (the blouse of myriad colours but your petticoat white, always), going about the house feeding the other human being in your house. 

You, in your blouse and petticoat, sitting in front of the television watching the news or "travel TV" as you liked to call it, showering us with wonder of the places you'd visited through the television. 

You. 

You, in the kitchen, cooking my favourite dal with peanuts in it, or screaming from there to ask me, "Hiranshi, inda banavi aapu?" ("Hiranshi, should I cook you some eggs?") 

You, in the kitchen, and me, in the living room, wafting in the fragrance of the dish of chicken or fish that you'd cook for the whole family. 

You. 

You, sitting on your bed, with your daughters and grandchildren surrounding you, talking away about whatever came to your mind. 

You, sitting on your bed, with your cute infectious laughter and smile at something you thought. 

You. 

You; mumma, masi and I giving you a bath because you couldn't move. 

You, whose forehead my mother plants a kiss on, before leaving and crying in the elevator to me about the woman who raised her to be strong and independent despite all the hurdles that she faced. 

You. 

You, who I shared the one person bed with just so you could caress my head and make me feel like everything in the world is going to be okay. 

You, who I regret not seeing one last time because I couldn't bear to look at your pale face and limp body. I couldn't say goodbye, but I know you would tell my mother not to bring me there in order to protect me. 

You. 

Nani, this is for you. You, who taught me so many things, took care of me since I was a baby and you, my nani, who will always live in my heart and on my desk at home where your picture lies. 

Nani, this is for you. You, who I miss and love unconditionally. 

You. 

You, who I can still remember through the eyes of the child who was Hiranshi.

You, who I will always remember. 

[Masi - Mother's sister; Nani - Mother's mother]