Every day takes me away from my mother, from my last memories of her, creating a barrier of time and space from when we last met each other. I wade further and further away from her touch, her embrace, the warmth hidden under layers of brusque behaviour, her sayings, her jokes, her voice, her smell.
We are now on opposite ends of the shore, perhaps she sees me but she can’t reach me. And I sit and wait indefinitely for the divine boatman or manjhi to come and ferry me on to that shore hoping that she will wait for me there. That we will meet once again and hold each other, like a long lost child who stumbles upon her mother.