A Journey Down Memory Lane

On memory lane…

On the last day of my visit—one that was meant to help me find some answers and reconnect with my roots—I met my bhatiji for the first time. We only had two days together.

Just two.

But saying goodbye felt far heavier than I expected.

Until then, we had only known each other through video calls. I didn’t know how she would be with me in person, or how I would feel. But the moment we met, there was no gap to bridge.

She came to me so naturally, as if I had always been part of her world.

She proudly told everyone she met, “My bui is here.”

That spark in her eyes, the excitement in her voice, the joy of wanting to share everything with me—it stayed with me. And in those two days, something in me quietly settled.

I hadn’t realised how much I needed that time.

The way she spoke, her little stories, the way she held my hand—it slowed me down in a way I didn’t know I was missing.

And somehow, that was enough to bring me back to myself. I felt lighter. Calmer. More like me again.

Leaving her didn’t feel like a simple goodbye.

It felt like I was leaving a part of my heart behind.

Wanting to hear her voice again,

to hold her again,

to go back to those small, ordinary moments that didn’t feel ordinary at all.

She didn’t know I was leaving.

She was busy in her own little world—smiling, talking, telling everyone, “My bui is here.”

And a part of me wished I didn’t have to choose…

to leave her behind like that.

Her innocence.

The ease of it all.

The way those two days felt so full without trying to be anything special.

Now I carry those moments with me.

Time will move, she will grow, life will change…

But somewhere inside,

I will keep returning to those two days—

holding them gently,

as if they could slip away.

Until we meet again, my little one…

you carry a piece of my heart with you.