Remembrance

It's been exactly 10 years, Mols wrote.
September 22nd.

I had no idea, I knew but I had no idea.
Thought it was October.

It has been a memory that has definitely shaped me. Not outwardly, but for sure some way.
It probably touched all of us in ways that we can't define.

I had only some phony anger against god. I don't think "god" mattered too much by then.Or it did, I don't remember.

I remember expressing some kiddish anger against the manager who wanted to call me to work the day we came back.

No matter how old we are, one can never be deal with loss with utmost dignity, and possibly that is how we are able to cope.

Only thing years have changed is how much of my thought has gone to his parents who were probably doing the job of being parents to us more than we being the grown ups being there for them.

That is how it felt to me that time.

I still don’t remember, whose tears were wiped,

Can’t recall , whose shoulders were they either,

For I was supposed to console, swallowing that grief, bitter

I recall, their shoulders, my tears, flowing through their grief.

I remember the stoic father, silently sobbing mother,

The frantic brother , holding on to hope,

Till the time , hope was no longer breathing,

We kept pressing, hoping against hope

I don’t remember who bawled, who was quiet

How big was the pain being carried, the force it exerted?

Remembering the awkward motions, unsure, terrified

Fearing for them, if they were strong enough, while masking our fears

I don’t remember, coming back sans one,

A part of me just vanished, and it was not fair,

Something in me must have turned black,lifeless,

For the memories are etched in fire, dead charcoal, still smoldering