Five years since you are gone.

Been Five years since you vanished from this family. I don't know whether you have rebirth and you are living a new life somewhere across the world or maybe right next to my house as my neighbor, but the truth is you have left us all in the middle of our journey for which I am not really happy.

Do you know what has happened with me after you were gone?

Do you have any single idea what we have been through when you suddenly chose to give up on your breath and leave us to live life without you?

When the doctor said that horrible word "Sorry" indicating that he couldn't save you I dashed inside the ICU not caring about anyone.

When I reached there the only thing I could see was my mother who was lying in the bed in an odd position not even twitching her finger.

The machines were dead and the nurses were already removing the IVs. My heart pounded against my chest thinking about the impossibilities.

"No!" I whispered to myself while from my peripheral vision, I saw my dad running inside the ICU crying and sobbing. He went to his wife and hugged her crying on her shoulder while I took slow steps towards my mother.

"Mommy!" I shook her cold hand a little.

"Mommy!" I cried and hugged her shouting and yelling at her to wake up.

"Please open your eyes. Please!" I begged and the next moment I felt my senses giving in and I collapsed right next to her bed with me hitting my head hard on the floor which led me into concussion.

I woke up to the water being splashed on my face and doctor checking my pulse. Registering what just happened, I jumped off the bed and ran across the hallway towards the ICU.

There I saw her. She was now being in white cover. That is when I broke down completely with dad hugging me and I saw as the woman I used to call 'Mommy' till date, dead in that bed.

Nothing much really happened that.

My friends came to my aid in that hospital knowing about my condition. We came back late at night.

When my sister who was 12 at that time, opened the door for us, she looked behind me for mommy. She was suffering from chicken pox and when in the evening we were leaving for the hospital she had asked mom to bring a headache medicine. My mother passed away right at 8 O' Clock in the evening.

When we reached home it was already 10 yet my sister was unaware of the fact that mom is no more. Dad chose not to tell her because she was alone in the house with my mentally disturbed nanny and our pet German shepherd 'Bruno'.

My sisters look was so disturbing and heart breaking when I revealed that mother is no more. Imagine, a twelve year old kid getting the info. I was merely 15 at that time but she was much more younger than me. Only twelve.

I stayed awake the whole. The sounds of IV machine, heart beats from the hospital kept repeating in my head. I rememeber, that I didn't cry too much nor did I allowed any one to come closer to me.

Friends, teachers were there for us but the one I needed the most wasn't.

The next day everyone were present, all of a sudden I got to see new faces of people that I had never ever met.

My mother's body was delivered to us by the hospital for the cremation procedure. I sat next to her body while the others cried, sobbed and prayed for her. Her face was now void of any emotions. No scowl, no frown, no anger, no happiness nothing.

Fifteen year old kid, and that also a daughter did the last rites of cremation procedure of lighting the funeral pyre. It was me. It was not that I breaking the Hindus belief or culture. But it was my mother's wish. We were away from all our family members and for years we had no contact with the either side of my parents family or relatives, and as we were two daughters of our mother and as mom never really saw us as her weakness she wished me her eldest daughter to perform the rites that if she had a son would have done to lit the pyre after her death.

And so I did.

I didn't cry that day. Nor did I gave out any expression when the handed over her Asthi in my hand. So hard to belief that the person who was alive the day before, shouting and yelling at us was in that small pot into ash.

I heard my family members. The relatives whom I never had a chance to meet when my mom was alive.

"Look at her. She is exactly like her mother."

"No expression. Nothing!"

"She isn't even crying."

"I think she never really loved her mother. She isn't even crying."

"Heartless! Just like her mother."

"Its like seeing a younger version of Mamata."

"Yes! See her eyebrow, her forehead, her lips.. everything similar to her mother."

"Like mother.. like daughter.. Heartless!"

I am not crying. Yes, I am not crying. It doesn't mean that I don't miss my mother. Yes, I agree I am totally like her, not showing any emotions or even reaction, but that doesn't mean that I am not thinking.

My mother and I are the same.

We belief upon keeping the things to ourselves. We don't want anyone's sympathy.

I looked at the asthi in my hand.

It's a mother daughter thing.

"You all won't understand!" I whispered to them.

At least give some space to a fifteen year old kid who performed world's difficult yet holy ritual with her own hand.

Leave us alone.

When my mom waa alive people used to comment on me to my mother.

"Mamata! Your first daughter. She doesn't have any resemblance to her parents. Neither she looks like her father nor she looks like you. Who does she resemble?" They used to ask.

My mother would just glance my way and just shrug her shoulders to them.

But now when she not alive, and as the time passes by I began to look the complete replica of her.

"Exactly like her mother!"

I didn't quite really belief that but still hearing that would make me really happy.

That fifteen year old kid went through depression, to the point where she was to eat sleeping pills to sleep. Where she suffered psychosis and major depression. When the pressure was too much, she tried to put her life into end.

Why?

I loved my mother.

And its only been ten days to her death.

And you don't speak of getting your father married to her father who just lost his wife and before us who just lost their motherly shadow of hope from their head.

Its dangerous.

Remember! You don't speak or pressure about it before a kid who just lost her mother. Fifteen and twelve year old kid.

Result: depression. Hatred towards everyone, even the father.

Outcome: "Just like her mother! Heartless"

Enough!

I don't really care how my mother treated them. Either with hatred, disrespect or whatever but what matters is how she behaved with her own family that is me, nanny, my sister and my father. To us she was always gentle, caring and bound.

Why would I ever tolerate anything nonsense.

If I ever raise my voice at this.

"Heartless. Just like her mother!"

Then whom do you expect I would turn into? Obama? He is not my mother nor my father. Of course! I will turn just like my mother. You bitches! Get a life.

I used to think why is my mother so cold towards the world. But day by day I got to know it by myself. Then I got it. To survive you need to mind your own business and you need to understand when you should raise your voice and when you shouldn't.

That I did.

One warning! And it was over.

Five years have passed without you. Not hearing your voice, not eating the food that you prepared, nor loved or pampered by you. Five years.

I have grown emotionless mother!

I have lost hope on relationships.

I have grown fake.

Void of any emotions or pain.

Neither do I feel any pain nor do I feel any emotions within me.

I have never loved anyone. Never had a serious boyfriend. Relationships looked like a suicide rope for me. I do talk, laugh  but am I happy?

Mother?

"They say. Your mother is alive within you. Alive? Than will you help me when I am lonely? Will you answer my questions? Will you erase all those daunting memories I have right now?"

Nobody will ever understand.

You told me once that you dream is to walk me to the mandap. Buy expensive and designer clothes for my wedding. Roam around with me across the world. Dress me up with your own hand for the wedding.

So was it a lie?

I do share everything with dad. But he is not you. It isn't like I can not share with him but its me. I don't want to give him your place. I wanted you to know all about that has been going on with my life. Not him.

I know I am being selfish. Don't judge.

It is what you have made me.

Your death was shocking for me.

And deep down. I do hate you. I hate you for leaving me alone. It is why I do not trust any one nor I do I let anyone in. Now nobody could leave me.

Today is fifth death anniversary and here is my confession for not glancing at your photo ever in this five years.

Its my anger towards you.

If you could get angry at me for not being responsible when you were alive, in the same way I could too remain angry at you for not fulfilling your promise and duty towards me, us as your family.

Like they said .. "Like mother... Like daughter"

If you are my stubborn mother ... I am your daughter.

I am even more stubborn one could ever imagine.

******************************

I will write how I feel in every death anniversary of her.

Today is her death anniversary.

I am writing it for myself, I want to see how I am changing day by day. How her death has affected me. I know there are many people in this world going through even worse than me. If I have hurt you in any way through this story then forgive me. Its unintentional.

May your soul rest in peace mom.

Your loving daughter

-Simii