I want to write about the unknown emotion that fills me. The waves crashing within me. The butterflies in my stomach that refuse to settle down. I spent yet another sleepless night. There was nothing I could do but then love does it to you. I hate thinking about the past but those who know me from long back know that I lost my grandfather post a simple surgery. The images are so vivid. I cannot help but be scared. We (my mother, my brother and myself) act strong but we all are thinking about the same thing. We are spread out in different corners of the world remembering the dreadful day 9 years back and connecting it to present day.

I broke down when kuttyma innocently asked “is paati awake yet?” At 3.5 it is too young for her to understand about surgery, anesthesia and post-operative care. I try to tread on it softly. I am staying home and clinging to routine because of her. Given a chance, I will be there in Chennai.

I read my book without actually realizing what I am reading. I write to clear my mind which refuses to do so. I ask myself questions – questions no one has answers too. I scold myself for letting my thoughts stray. I talk to my mother. We forget who is giving strength to whom. I ping my brother and bother him on Whatsapp. He speaks wise. I wonder when my baby brother became so wise.

I make a “get well soon” card with kuttyma for her patti and promise we will visit her soon. I let the tears fall.

I vow a lot of my existence to my grandparents and it is no secret. I am just a lucky girl to have their influence and blessings.

Today I will count my blessings and say a heartfelt thanks to those who stood by us when it mattered.

And the Germans got it all wrong when they said, Blut ist dicker als Wasser