A strange quiet and hopelessness would slither in my head till I would try and put an abrupt end to it by engaging in one senseless thought or another.
I am happy that it did not happen today. More so because I am then not someone who can't be happy for others. How selfish are we essentially to find hope in other people's joy as much as a selfish glee in their misery too. It is all about us then, is it not?
Let me talk of other things. I am not in touch with the family, except my sister. I find it very difficult to talk to my mother between fighting tears. Tears whose source is yet unknown to me. I can make a guess but it might be as wrong as it may be right. To know that she is fine and alright is enough, I defer talking till I can crack a joke or two, till I can make her laugh saying silly things that I say only to her. I miss her even as I speak with her and because she is my mother it is difficult not to go to her. I instinctively go to her at times and then as if I seal my lips, I never talk. At times she senses something but I hurriedly keep the phone down on some pretext. I have always only wanted to show my mother (and father) my happy self, the strong self, to only bring joy to her and never grief, no one's, not even my grief. So it may be that she has to wait a bit before I call her one of these days in all joy and tease her or make a couple of 'our' jokes and hear her laugh.