Something...

19 June. Ten days till the end of June, ten days till the end of mum's life two years ago (according to the western calendar).

This month has been slow and a slump. So many dreams... so many visions of mum (and dad)... Tears, emotional depletion and this terrible terrible exhaustion. Grief seems to be raring its head again, and loneliness, that damned, god-forsaken sense of emptiness and withdrawal is consuming my heart, my joys, my very soul.

There are moments I sit in the office, or stand leaning against the wall of the metro, and close my eyes. In these moments, I can hear everything going on around me, but I feel as if I am drifting, drifting and am lost like a ghost in a world full of noise, full of life.

And I feel so small... so insignificant and so weak again.
I was getting stronger, and have been healing myself with travels and explorations of the world out there (despite what people may point and say...). But moments like this make me feel like I am taking steps back, like I am stumbling and falling all over again.

May, the month of mum's birthday and Mother's Day...
June, the month that two years ago was filled with dashed hopes, flying across the world and trying to make a dying person's last moments comfortable and filled with love. 

When I open my eyes, I see the world move all around me. I feel the world spin and feel like everything has just been a dream. A dream. A dream one has during a brief nap.


But I am not alone. I realise this more and more as events have been unfolding in the lives of people and friends around me. There is no monopoly on loss, pain and grief. I see it on the face on the hapless lady sitting alone on  the park... I see it in empty eyes of a homeless man searching for a hint of mercy and compassion. Losses and emotional traumas are abound, and we are all here in our shared experience of grief and pain, in our yearning for happiness and comfort.