thor tiche upkar

My roommate told me today that yesterday I talked something while sleeping. I did not doubt him because he wasn’t the first (or the last) to witness this. I inquired if he remembered what I said. Upon which he asked me if I was feeling homesick, because I said the word ‘aai’ many times.
I have called three different people by the word ‘aai’; my mother, grandmother and aai. Having working parents meant someone had to take care of me while they were gone. That is how I got the immense love of aai. Aai and her family lived next door to us. She had four kids and I was the fifth kid in their family. I was her favorite. I listened to the “Ek hota raja…..” stories from her. Even after we moved from the place I used to go and stay with them during vacations. Her love and affection meant so much to me.
Then when I was eleven aai lost her eldest son in a wicked fate of events. She cried for days while I sat besides her. She finally accepted the cruel reality and felt may be that’s why God gave me to her. Six years past this, on a Sunday evening she wanted to see me. She just wanted to see me. She wasn’t doing too good with her health. I did not realize the gravity of the situation and decided that I would visit her the following day. I never got that chance. Aai passed away that night with an unfulfilled wish. It is ten years past that day today and I long to listen to the “ye gh ye gh gaai...” from her as I try to sleep. I would like to believe that there is an afterlife where I can apologize to her for failing my duty.