By Aditi Pote
I ask yet again as if for the first time..
"Aai, do you remember my name?"
My grandma's eyes, like stars distant,
gleam, then dim.
"Oh dear, what a funny little game."
Gathering the pieces of shattered hope, I persist..
"No, Aai, look...it's me—don’t you see?"
"Of course, child... But who could you be?"
Smiling faintly, she tries to read
the words slipping off the pages,
As if scribbled with vanishing ink
in the book of her memory..
Reminiscing on the past, I remind her tenderly...
"You used to tuck me in, beneath the moonlight,
Singing lullabies, whispering stories of Rama, Krishna and heroes alike"
Her voice melts like ice on a warm day,
Leaving nothing but cold water behind.
"Moonlight, yes..." She says, "It sure kissed the windowsill,"
"You told me of angels and princesses,
Showed me the triumph of good over evil,
And guided me to find the calm in storm.
"Did I?" She wonders, "My, how the wind must have roared."
I reach for you, but you flicker—
like the candle in the wind,
like the only chance getting slimmer
"Do you remember the garden you nurtured,
the one where trees stood tall
and jasmines climbed the wall?"
"Ah, the roses...they bloom forever, don’t they?"
"We planted them together, Aai, red and its every shade."
"Red...like blood? Or love? It’s all so faint..."
"You held my hand then, we laughed, we danced, among the petals, we played"
"Hand in hand? Perhaps...the flowers also swayed"
I reach for you, but you drift away—
like the tide that erases footprints,
like twilight swallowing the day.
"Do you remember the summer skies we shared,
And how the clouds painted the stories we read?"
"Stories...feel like old, fading photographs,
sepia, curling at the edges."
"Aai, my heart wrenches as I lose you piece by piece."
"Lose me? But I’m right here, my dear,
just beyond the edge of your reach."
"Are you really dwindling like the fog in the night"
"Fog? Oh yes, it must be the morning light"
I reach for you, but you are disappearing—
like the last ember in the dying fire.
like the reel of the tape, unwinding.
"I’ll hold on as long as I can, I promise."
"Hold on to what? Shadows? Echoes?"
"No, to you, to the memories that are left,
to the fragments of what we were."
Her laugh, soft as falling leaves:
"Oh dear, don’t look so bereft."
"I love you, Aai, through the silence,
through the ache of watching you wither away."
"Love... yes, that will always remain,
even as I wane."
"Will you please try to remember me just one more day"
"Remember? Oh! I wish I could arrest this neural decay"
I reach for you, but you are sinking—
like the ship with a hole in its hull
like a voice in the sea of silence, submerging..
One day, you will forget me entirely,
the person I am, and the child you held.
Sorry for thinking you will always stay,
until time took a toll.
Helplessly, now, I watch you slip away.
Soon after, I will lose you too,
not just in mind, but in body—
Alzheimer's will take everything,
leaving only echoes in empty rooms.
Is it too late to realise that
every "I love you" carries the
weight of a "goodbye?"
Knowing the fragility of love,
makes it precious,
makes every moment sacred.
For what is finite,
what we know we must lose,
we treasure all the more.
I reach for you, but even as you wilt—
your love endures,
Forever young, strong, eternal, and mine.
And as long as you are here, I continue to seek myself in your unknown gaze, mustering courage I ask again,
Aai, look...it's me—don’t you see?"
"Of course, child... But who could you be?"
Now taking her wrinkled hand in mine,
I simply sit by her side,
basking in bright sunshine,
I look for opportunities to make her smile.