There is a world cup on.
I religiously following every match. And I feel extremely
happy when India wins.
Then a sense of guilt replaces the happiness. For allowing
myself to be happy.
I was watching my 2011 cricket DVD when I heard Mola’s loud
breathing.
In a sense, my last memory of her and cricket are related.
It should have killed my love for the game. But strangely
enough, it didn’t.
But the guilt remains.
I feel a sense of guilt when I enjoy the rides at Universal
Studios.
I feel it when I walk into Giant to do my groceries.
I feel it when I cook the recipes she taught me.
There is an irrational conflict – between my sense of guilt
and my need to feel happy, occasionally.
I know for sure she wouldn’t want me to wallow in my guilt.
But I can’t help it.
The good thing is that I am not strong enough a man to
control my emotions.
So I can’t control the moments when I feel happy too.
At some point, this sense of guilt will go away.
The memories will move from being sad. To being ones I cherish.
I feel I am getting closer. But for now, I live in conflict.
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