Diwali 2026
It’s a funny thing about life: when we are children we want to grow up fast, and when we grow up we miss being the child we once were. Eventually there comes a time when can’t be a child ever again even in our heart, as our parents guarding that spirit are gone, gone forever!
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This year I lost my 2nd parent as well, my mom, and I never felt so lonely in the longest time. It wasn’t that she was my best companion at this stage of my life, but her just being there mattered more than I ever realized. Exactly half my life ago I left her nest. Since then the roles reversed. I became the provider, the caregiver, and eventually her mother in many ways, as I moved her to my city/neighborhood. I was definitely the stricter parent of us, phobic of her growing frailty over the last few years. Lately I was raising two children, a 7-year-old boy and a 70-year-old mother, who both had minds of their own, wouldn’t relent easily, and deserved my attention. I often felt inadequate, operating under my working mom/child guilt, listening only to solve, algorithmically balancing professional and personal commitments, thinking I was mostly delivering it all — until I lost her.
It’s been 11 weeks since she is gone. The first few weeks were about shock, post-facto what-if, guilt, pragmatic acceptance, and tonnes of chores. I robotically operated as she turned from a waning life into a body, then ashes, then into her things as I wound up her home, all in just a matter of a month. The only times I processed my grief without multitasking were, a day alone with my sibling in her home and once on a long flight to the US. But ever since the routine came back, I have been feeling the hole and heaviness in my heart get bigger with every passing day. There are no thoughts, no analysis, just pain and memories that randomly pop up several times a day. Every big or small thing passingly reminds me of her and what we would have done about it. She was a bigger part of my maniacal routine than it ever seemed. On the heaviest days when it gets difficult to operate, I feel her with me, giving me clear signals on how to cope. I crave for her, to hug her one more time, to apologize and tell her how much I cared while being strict about her health, how much I hated the days I couldn’t show up due to work, how much I liked irritating her by not sharing my travel schedules, how much I miss her anxious quirk of tracking me thru my travels, how much I enjoyed laughing at her melodrama, how much I fancied being her “chhantvi”, how much I loved her just being around, breathing.
Maa, life changed since your last breath. Letting you go breath by breath on ventilator were the hardest moments ever. We have had so much fun together, I didn’t want this to be our last memory. I want to hug you one more time, as your child and as my child! This #diwali, my #rangoli is that child we were to each other, the children we never will be again!
Ps: 2.5'x2', 15hrs, unhappy with outcome as I couldn’t the get the right innocent expressions on the girl, but happy about pushing some bonudaries and trying a new photorealistic style.
