Rashmi Rao

There are some people in your life who leave a mark. She was one of those.

I met Rashmi aunty first when I was around fifteen years old & we instantly hit off, much to the surprise of Pallavi, her daughter and my best friend. Then it became a norm for us to stop by at her place every second day  while returning from school. Aunty would treat us with mithai,cutlet, kababs, cold drinks and what not.

She was always impeccably dressed in her trademark chiffon sarees & sleeveless blouses, she was not very happy with her height & almost always wore heels. The only exception to this was when in winters she would have a shawl around her head.

It's from these innumerable vistis that I learnt home management -- her house was always in order, not a thing out of place. She would ensure that by the time we reached home, the lunch was served & she had some snacks ready for us.

Years passed, we grew up. From school I moved on to college but nothing changed, I would now go to her place everyday, to drop Pallavi off after college. She was the same, perfectly dressed, on top of everything at home.

I grew up talking to her about school, studies, failures, ambitions; clothes, lipsticks and of course boys. I remember her being the only one other than my friends knowing about my crushes. Time flew and I moved out of lucknow. I would still call her up once in a while & met her whenever I went back even post Pallavi's marriage.

Then they moved to Ghaziabad, closed to Delhi, not that I met her much but I still spoke with her regularly. I had a connection with her that was beyond being a friend's mother.

I remember the last time I saw her was about a year ago, when I visited her in Ghaziabad & spend two days with her. She cooked for me, took me out shopping... it was like we were back in school..

Then almost sudenly I heard that she was unwell.. her gall bladder stones had caused an infection that turned cancerous... I wanted to see her but she did not want anybody to see her in that state.

I don't know if she knew she was going, I don't know what she must have gone through & I don't know if she even thought of me in her last days..

All I know is.. I miss her, nothing I say will suffice what she meant to me.

Miss you Aunty - very much.

Who am I ??

It's been a long night... bringing back the memories of what once was and now isn't. 

I am at the stage where everyone around thinks my life could not have been better.

After all having a great man for a husband, a lovely baby and a stable career at thirty is all once can ask for, isn't it?? What no one want's to see is what you lose in the bargain.. all friends, all fun, all freedom & yes some people that you are really fond of but can not be with.

It's easy to crib some say, losers complain say others, it's a sign of weakness to cry & weep. "Why?" I ask ?? Why is it that a woman is expected to do everything, leave everything behind,people she loves, things that give her happiness yet put on a happy face....

Like all women, after getting the perfect man, my world revolved around him, what he likes became my liking, what he ate became my food, he was my life center. In this process, I have lost myself somewhere. I know not who I am.. I am not the girl that left everyone behind almost ten years ago to chase her dreams. I am not the woman I pretend to be to the world, I am not the girl my husband fell in love with.. I am not my parent's little girl who was afraid of talking to people... I am not the bully who almost killed her brother. I am not the pretty young thing who attracted some boys but never paid heed to them.. I am not the nineteen year old madly in love with someone who dint even bother to look back when he left..... yet I am me, still or so I hope.

Do you know who I am ?? can you help me find myself ??