We went to Bangalore for what was meant to be a few days. It became a month. Aditi and Vikas never once made it feel like we had overstayed.
They took us to Mysore, introduced us to their relatives as though we already belonged there, and let everyone play in a river close by.
There was lots of creamless cake, offered again and again without for no particular occasion.
We visited the local monasteries and offered prayers for Sanju.
In the evenings, we sat and watched Sarabhai vs Sarabhai, night after night. Neither of us had gone that long, since Sanju died, without our minds circling back to everything. That kind of rest was not something we had asked for. It came anyway.
A month like that is hard to fully account for. Cheeku and I did nothing to earn it, and it changed something in both of us.
Dear Aditi and Vikas,
I am not sure I can thank you enough, but I will try anyway.
For Mysore, for the river, for more cake than I can count, and for evenings that asked nothing of me.
You gave a tired, grieving heart a place to simply be. I hope I can offer even a fraction of that back to you, someday.
With deep gratitude,
Shaweta.