Missing and my take on the same.
|It’s been two days since she left us and went off to her new home.
And for the first time in 11 months, my home doesn’t feel like one anymore.
There’s an eerie silence and stillness; a stasis-of-sorts, as if in response to being robbed of the tremendous life and energy of little Paakhi.
Her all-consuming presence remains peppered all over.
She’s there when I open my eyes, her soft, warm, puppy breath fanning my face every morning.
She’s there when I’m making coffee, waiting obediently right outside the kitchen .
She’s there when I eat, looking up at me, begging me with black, beady and hungry eyes.
She’s there when I sleep, nestled against me, tucking her wet nose into the warmest, coziest spot available.
She’s there after my shower, at my feet, licking the excess water off my anklets.
She’s there when I work, running truant all across the house.
She’s there when I sit, nibbling my toes, testing my tolerance with the not-so-gentle nip every now and then.
She’s there everywhere: in my bed, in my lap, on the couch, in the car, in my parent’s house, in the balconies.
All I can do is bump into her as I go about my day, remembering, reliving, cherishing, and most of all - missing. Major missing.
And while she’ll embellish her new home, regale her new family with her lovable presence in no time, I will take a long, long time to come to terms with her absence.