Parcels arrive in all kinds of shapes and sizes.
There were some that arrived all the way from Bhutan, packed with freshly-buttered parathas, pickles and kaju katlis. They were soaked in Meenakshi's mom's love. And I remember waiting for the threads of the packet to come unbound and for the parathas with all sorts of pickles to land on our use-and-throw paper plates.
Food never tasted as great as they did in the Loreto air, the Darjeeling cold always making you hungry for more.
Yesterday, my Santa's sack arrived.
With feverish fingers, I ripped open the packet and out of it tumbled, scarves, gloves and socks that will keep the cold away this Winter.
There's always a mother looking out for you. From some far-flung corner of the world, sometimes.
How did I get so lucky?
There were some that arrived all the way from Bhutan, packed with freshly-buttered parathas, pickles and kaju katlis. They were soaked in Meenakshi's mom's love. And I remember waiting for the threads of the packet to come unbound and for the parathas with all sorts of pickles to land on our use-and-throw paper plates.
Food never tasted as great as they did in the Loreto air, the Darjeeling cold always making you hungry for more.
Yesterday, my Santa's sack arrived.
With feverish fingers, I ripped open the packet and out of it tumbled, scarves, gloves and socks that will keep the cold away this Winter.
There's always a mother looking out for you. From some far-flung corner of the world, sometimes.
How did I get so lucky?
You are not lucky my dearest...
ReplyDeleteYou are loved!
xo