Memory sketch

Childhood is always memorable for all of us, our family, friends, daily fun routine, school everything we want to live over and over. I grew up in a far away town, filled with people from across country, a government colony to be very precise. My roots are from the cold hills of Garhwal, but my dad's job kept us warm for good long years in the heart of Madhya Pradesh.



Dad used to call it a cosmopolitan city as people from all over India were employed here. We had friends from all over the states. Dad was not much friendly but he had a very Friendly friend whom we called Mishra Uncle (in India Aunty and uncles are not subjected for relatives but mainly for neighbors and family friends).

He was a very joyous person full of life and energy. In my childhood, he was the best uncle to be around but this story is about his beautiful wife, Mishra Aunty.

I don't have words to subject her affection and kindness for other people and especially for me. She was a tall lady with utmost grace and kindness. Aunty had two sons, so in her house, my existence was invariably extra with more love and lots of snacks. I and my younger sister were called 'Bitiya' (daughter) by them. She was a government teacher which was quite an accomplishment in the '90s. Her chit chats were always about to do something in life, don't be idle. Her words still echoed in my ears as she used to say 'Always be happy Bitiya'.

Aunty had some health conditions which made her body heavy with slow walks. Her visits were rare to our house compare to uncle's but whereabouts were always to and fro. During my college days, I stayed for a year in their hometown Kanpur and met her mirror image sister who never let me feel homesick. Phones were new in those times, but I always managed to get connected with aunty and know about her well beings.

We all kids grew up going for career, marriages. Last, I spoke to aunty was almost 8 years ago, as last year she passed away due to health complications. What hurt me most is that dad had mentioned at times about her health, and I always procrastinated by indulging in my life, I wish I hadn't.

Its been almost a year since she passed away, I cried inconsolably when my dad gave me the news and searched for her last pictures in my google drive. Looked at them for hours and recalled her chits chat. I know, I will never hear that Bitiya word again, her voice is still in my memories.

It took me months to get courage and talk to uncle, our fun uncle is still young in his voice. I spoke to their sons, they are good and life is moving for everybody.

We read stories to speak to old friends and family, not hold a grudge but juggling with our ups and downs and deferring the important things is what we all do, all I know is what I missed will never come back.

We meet people in stages of life and some bequeath lifetime impact on us, Mishra Aunty was one of them. Her sweet smile and the way she said bitiya is now a sketched memory for me, hopefully, one day I could be someone's Mishra Aunty.



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