chuvvi!

चुव्वी!

I remember, when I was little, I would crawl under nana's bed, and hide.  Today I did so again (daddy's bed this time) though for far less nobler reasons than playing hide and seek with my cousins, or surprising my नाना--he would laugh when he found me there, and call me चुव्वी, a little female mouse, or something like that.


--I was mopping the hall in anticipation of my father's coming back from the hospital.

Two weeks ago, I found myself in Ashok Nagar, on foot, and not very far from nana's house. I had the morning to myself, and I had this vision of finding my nana in his armchair, the newspaper spread out before him, and, perhaps, listening to the news on the radio. I smiled to myself, and sub-consciously quickened my steps. Two minutes later, I realized that there would be no one at home: my aunt and uncle would be gone for work, my cousin to college, and her elder sister out roaming somewhere with her friends. And the newspaper would be neatly folded on the side-table, and that armchair would be forever empty.