I got some flowers and diyas for the Vashi house. It completely escaped me that Papa has lost his sister and might not want to celebrate the festival. Sometimes I am amazed at my ability to not care about anyone else's feelings.
Anyway, we had coffee and we soothed ourselves down. I arranged the flowers around my mum's photo. I love doing that. She loved it if someone dressed her up or when she put kajal in her beautiful eyes or her bindi. She was so beautiful that she always looked lit from within with joy.
I have a tiny picture of her which I keep in a gap between Ma Kali's garland and the Shiva that she has stepped on (a statue on my altar) I love how ensconced she looks. Like a baby in her mommy's lap, looking around with wonder and curiosity. So when I wipe her face with wet cloth or chandan on her photo, I imagine her smile...the way she would grin so happily on her hospital bed or at home when she was unwell. She would always ask me to wipe her face another time and clip her nails.
Even today in Vashi, it's like her face is a bright, full moon heralding good, happy times.
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