It is now 8 years since I lost my mother . All of 85 , she was active till the last year of her life, when she was bedridden and moved in and out of hospital. I could not meet her before she breathed her last . I only saw her mortal remains in a copper vessel waiting to be taken for immersion in the holy Ganges. I long to talk to her, to take her advice, to unburden myself when overwhelmed by circumstances , or to share my joys, but all I can do is open her cupboard and smell the sarees, neatly hung in a row with sachets of sandal wood lying in between the neatly folded ones. I stumbled upon this photograph of hers looking resplendent in a lovely maroon sari with a green border, taken a good ten years before she passed away. She always wore sarees. I don’t remember seeing her in any other attire. When I wear one of hers , I get imbued with confidence and the nine yards wrap me in her blessings. Mummy I miss you so much!

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