I am feeling a little homesick. May be because it is Mom and Dad’s wedding anniversary today. What does it feel to be married for 47 years? I don’t know.

I miss wishing my Mom and Dad on this day. Stuti and I used to make breakfast and tea and serve it on a tray with a little card with some scribbles. That’s pretty much all we could do. I don’t remember any big celebrations. But it was a special day. My Mom and Dad were not big into gifts. I guess no one in middle class India was into gifts back then. The definition of middle class has since then evolved.

I wonder how my Mom feels today. I choke up every time I think of it. Does she remember this day from 47 years ago? Is that how memories work? Does she remember being a young bride? How did she feel that day? How does she feel now? I want to know what goes on in her mind, on this day. But I cannot. I don’t even ask.

I was in a meeting today when suddenly I started hearing a cacophony of ambulance sirens. My eyes blurr up when that happens. It becomes very difficult for me to be in a room full of people when this happens. But I recovered. I guess the topic under discussion was intriguing enough to pull me back. I recovered physically, but emotionally I am still strained. Just like a wind-up toy, my clockmotor takes time to rewind. It is exhausting. But it is life. I have become used to this.

To celebrate their anniversary I will light up an incense stick. It’s fragrance fills me up with warm and fuzzy feelings. I feel like I am standing next to my Mom and Dad. I am not religious. But I like rituals. Simple ones.

We find our tricks and hacks. Mine is an incense stick.