Please note that this story is purely a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, events and locales are either a product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictous manner. Any resemblance to any event and/or person living and/or dead is purely coincidental. We do not intend on offending any race, religion or community.
“Its a stormy night yet again. I can smell the wet mud and feel these mighty winds upon my skin. I have no idea why I am suddenly so in love with these storms. I used to be scared of them once upon a time. But now, everything feels so different. I am slowly falling in love with this new life of mine. For years I have struggled for that one job, that one promotion, that one letter of appreciation. But now, all I want is peace and meaning in my life. I am no longer drawn to stuff that does not make my soul sparkle and my heart glow with joy. Wealth, fame and good fortune, nothing lasts forever. I want to spend my life in a way that I feel good about it, not what has been termed as good by the mortal beings.” Nisha sat alone in the corridor of the building thinking about her past, present and future. She had been through a lot and even in the present moment life was not easy. But she was convinced that she would not bow down to temporary stuff that would never bring her happiness in any form.
Diya was preparing some green apple curry for dinner. She had sliced the apples and was now busy chopping the onions. She was in a pretty happy mood as she felt that finally her talent would get the recognition it deserved. She removed the chopped garlic from the frying pain and added sone chopped onions to it. She waited for a few minutes for the onions to change their colour before adding some curry powder to the mixture.
“Are you going to serve this with bread?” asked Nisha walking in wrapping her shawl tightly around herself.
“We have some delicious garlic bread in here,” said Diya stirring the curry, “And if you want, I can make some pancakes as well.”
“Thank you,” said Nisha sitting down close to the fire,” but I would like some gingerbread cookies instead.”
“Gingerbread cookies?” whispered Diya in a surprised tone, “do you know how to make them?”
“I have the recipe,” said Nisha and took out an old diary with brown colored pages,” You wont believe it but Arjun’s Grandma visited me this Hallowe’s eve. My Grandma had explained to me the concept of sacred dinner where we eat in complete silence without making any noise and even the dishes are washed making minimum sounds. When everyone had eaten and left, I sat in silence and ate my pie. Then I washed the dishes trying hard to make as little noise as possible. I was just turning off the kitchen lights when I noticed some crushed cookies on the floor. I had no clue where they came from but when I kneeled down to swipe them up I saw a face on the floor, a face so old yet so pretty, an unknown face with a known vibe. I closed my eyes in horror and when I opened them after quite sometime, I found a fabric roll and this diary on the floor.”
“But how did you know that she was Arjun’s Grandma?” asked Diya finding it hard to believe what she just heard.
“I knew it when I opened this diary,” she said showing Diya the first page of the diary which had a picture of Arjun with an old woman seated on an armchair and the caption read “With my beloved grandson, memories.”