Funny how they just sneak- up on you. when you least expect it. Memories! They have been hidding for so long and then when you have just about forgotten about them they jump at you. Sometimes streaming down like tears. Seeing my mother's handwriting in a totally unknown place, inspite of expecting it, made me feel like...i can't even describe the feeling. And then her letter just made the world turn to liquid. But it wasn't so much the fact that i miss them that set me off, but just all the torrents of memories like the waves of the ocean, sometimes hard sometimes softer, but always bring something to leave behind on the shore.

I can safely say that i've had the perfect childhood. Happy, free from any sort of anxiety (besides ofcourse the quarrels with my brother and sister and the fear of getting a spanking). Me, my sister and my brother were always there for each other to play with, to study with, to eat with, ofcourse to fight with. We climbed trees, swam in the river, went fishing, had little picnics on our front lawn.
When my sister got married the toast- master said that whenever he passed by our house he would always see our family together playing, gardening, going for walks, cycling. We always had these family outtings. Endless trips to the beach. So many evenings walking up in the hills. Sometimes we would take a picnic and go for a whole day trip, just walking and exploring. During summer, plucking mangoes and cashews.

A picture just hops into my mind, that of me and my sister coming out of primary school, and who do we see waiting to pick us up? Daddy on his scooter! We run to him, "Daddy you took leave today!" and both of us on the scooter, me standing in front, and Tara (my sister) holding Dad as tight as possible behind him. Special treat during lunch a cassette of some Cartoons we have watched a hundred times before. And sometimes Momi took leave, she would sit with us while we had lunch and listen to all our stories.

We took trips out of station. How did they manage with the three of us? I remember Daddy couldn't take his eyes off the plants when we went to Ooty. And us laughing while Momi spoke to the fellows in Kannada. The trips to Jodhpur, Nepal...all their memories.

As kids we had our own secret groups. Why it had to be secret i fail to understand. And then we would gang- up and share our woes if any one of us got a yelling at from our grand-mother. Nanni, everything at home reminds me of her. The evening tea, the gossiping with the neighbour. Or just lying in bed with her while she patted us to sleep.

Our last family outing together before my sister got married. We went for the movie Crash. When we got home, I was sad, maybe angry even coz i knew this would be the last. I was saying bye to my sister, with whom i used to lie awake and talk to for hours until Momi had to come and remind us to sleep. My sister without whom i wouldn't imagine going out, even if it was just to church. Or the evening cycling, when we made fun of practically everyone we met. All the secret names and idiotic imaginings. And then the day i had to say bye to my brother as he left for Amedabad. I found living in the house almost unbearable when he left. The teasings, the name- calling. I think we hardly ever called each other Alison or Russell. The times when we would talk about things that only he and i would understand, and tell the others not to interfere. We would get together and almost mercilessly tease my sister.

And now when i hear them over the phone, or the ever blessed Skype, i can't help asking the routine questions and exchanging bits of near normal talk and hoping i could just get to see them once more. Oh, May seems so far away.

Momi, this whole essay was triggered off by you. With that amazingly simple letter, reminding me to do the things that you have been telling me about a hundred times already. I miss you and Dad and Tara and Russell all the time. I so wish you could all be here with me and see the beautiful things that i see. Thank you for everything. Thank you for being my wonderful family.