Windows to her soul

And the moment I say goodbye, her eyes tear up. Mine followed. I smile and hug her. She rewards me with a watery smile and hugs me back. I revel in her warmth, because I know I am going to miss her the second I reach. Eventhough she doesn’t understand me quite well and doesn’t know what to do when I sit there curled up in a corner, with a mind that’s been blocked, comfort me and talk me out of my depression, I know she will always be there. Because she cant bear me, retreating back into a shell. And I come out of it by myself and smile for her, because I know I cant bear it when a feeling of helplessness creep into her eyes during those times.

I have never told her how much I love her. The words never come out. They get stuck at the tip of my tongue. My heart broke the day when she came upto me and asked why I never tell her how much I love her, with teary eyes. She asked me, is it because you dont love me?. I hugged her then. I could only hope that she understood what I wanted to convey, because words fail me when it comes to her.

I remember a time when I was rebellious and shouted at her for everything. She fought back too. I remember the day I told her hurtful words that I was never supposed to utter. I cant even imagine the pain she would have felt when she would have heard them. Her eyes, filled with pain, is a memory that is etched into my heart. Well, the dynamics changed at some point of time. Now the guilt that consumes me, when I as much as go against her, eats my heart. Its only when she talks back to me as if nothing happened, that I heave a sigh of relief. Her indifference can reduce me to a strange nobody. Her words can make me believe that everything is fine. Her love can make stand up and face the world.

And the day at the airport, I never looked into her eyes. I knew she was crying. I hugged her, told her bye and walked in. I kept my head down, flickered my eyes, kept my tears from falling. It was only after I reached a safe distance, where I wouldn’t be able to see her eyes, that I turned back, smiled and memorized her face, for the months to come.

Her eyes are my windows.
Her tears are my undoing.
And my mother is my love.

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