July writing challenge
Day 9: lost
Here are some things I do when I feel lost:
Look at photographs from years ago, when I was a little kid. The photos of my parents when they were young and to think, the photos of my dad when he was just as old as I am now, strutting in front of The Lotus Temple, beaming and flexing his black belt in karate or something, him and his friends training in the army; my mom every so shy and demure with her dupatta draped, and the distant look in her eyes, her long hair, holding a delicate kitten in her palm, a young bride, coyly holding my father’s hand who looks smart in a leather jacket; a photo of me and my sister, she having recently peed on her clothes and soaking my multicoloured tulle dress and she crying and me smiling; when I feel lost I go back to the family photo albums placed indifferently on the coffee table in the living room, and I flip over the plastic pages, carefully glancing at photos, to remind myself that the people whom I love and who love me are what matters, a reminder that reminds me who I am, where my roots are, how lovingly they raised me. I guess that’s what helps me find me again.