Written in then end of July. Typed and edited on Oct 19th. Posted on the first day of my winter break.
Daddy: I linger in his embrace longer than customary—I feel an intense comfort there, then an equally intense resentment when he pushes me away.
Ma: I find my way into the kitchen, and begin to wash the dishes. She reaches from behind and says, “I love you”. Again, she withdraws much sooner than I’d like.
Dadi: I offer her my hand in greeting, and she takes it, in a grip too tight for comfort, and yet comforting.
Jiji: We spend the morning in bed, snuggled against each other, and giggling over ridiculous nothings. We fight over one such nothing, then get out of bed.
Rafa Nadal: I feel inordinately happy as I go through his pictures, and suddenly wish to reach out and touch that smiling cheek.
Chacha: I try to nestle up to him, he looks at me questioningly. I smile uncertainly, then shrug and join in the general conversation.
Neha: (At the airport) she snuggles into a big, affectionate hug, “goodbye,” even as she whines that I do look good in T-shirts.
Kerul: His hand slips out of mine, as we walk down the street; he knows the way home, he says.
Daddy, again: His legs are warm, as I press them; they hurt, badly, and I feel that pain it in my bosom.
Pranita jiji: We exchange fond smiles and a light hug in greeting, then turn fonder smiles towards her daughter.
Sanchi: Her lips brush this darlingly against my cheek when I ask for a kiss, and then she returns to whatever has been amusing her.
Soumya: We have a cheerful meal, and when it is time to say goodbye, I touch her cheek, “take care” and we exchange a light embrace.
Kartheik: It is a virtual world; fingers fly over the keyboard, and touch does not know to exist.
The last one month of my summer break was --- unsolitary(if you'll allow me to invent words). Intoxicating, really. I remember warmth and laughter and sudden spells of despondency that were shooed away by some activity or the other. And ‘Cuz I am entirely too much a tactile person (and in no particular order),
Impressions of a summer break. In touch.
Daddy: I linger in his embrace longer than customary—I feel an intense comfort there, then an equally intense resentment when he pushes me away.
Ma: I find my way into the kitchen, and begin to wash the dishes. She reaches from behind and says, “I love you”. Again, she withdraws much sooner than I’d like.
Dadi: I offer her my hand in greeting, and she takes it, in a grip too tight for comfort, and yet comforting.
Jiji: We spend the morning in bed, snuggled against each other, and giggling over ridiculous nothings. We fight over one such nothing, then get out of bed.
Rafa Nadal: I feel inordinately happy as I go through his pictures, and suddenly wish to reach out and touch that smiling cheek.
Chacha: I try to nestle up to him, he looks at me questioningly. I smile uncertainly, then shrug and join in the general conversation.
Neha: (At the airport) she snuggles into a big, affectionate hug, “goodbye,” even as she whines that I do look good in T-shirts.
Kerul: His hand slips out of mine, as we walk down the street; he knows the way home, he says.
Daddy, again: His legs are warm, as I press them; they hurt, badly, and I feel that pain it in my bosom.
Pranita jiji: We exchange fond smiles and a light hug in greeting, then turn fonder smiles towards her daughter.
Sanchi: Her lips brush this darlingly against my cheek when I ask for a kiss, and then she returns to whatever has been amusing her.
Soumya: We have a cheerful meal, and when it is time to say goodbye, I touch her cheek, “take care” and we exchange a light embrace.
Kartheik: It is a virtual world; fingers fly over the keyboard, and touch does not know to exist.
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