I used to have a blue Princess and the Pauper sipper when I was a kid

On a hot summer day in Mumbai, I forgot it in an auto rickshaw

My mum was so mad when I went to her crying

She tried finding a similar one but I was too heartbroken over my loss

I still think about it sometimes

It was so cute and had glitter on it

That was my first-ever taste of grief

I am 22 now, and grief lives at the back of my throat

I can taste it every time I take a bite too big 

My mother calls me worried if I got home safe 

And I am in a pool of tears because 

She hasn’t gotten a call from her mum in ten years now 

Heaven doesn’t have smartphones yet 

My aunt tells me she has joined a dance class 

And we immediately start talking about my uncle’s favourite songs

I am assuming Heaven doesn’t have Spotify either

I walk past a man wearing Tom Ford Oud Wood

And I have to sit down for a second 

The once “love of my life” used to wear that scent

And he is healthy and well with unlimited access to Tom Ford, I am sure

We just don’t talk anymore and I no longer know where to put my love 

My uncle buys a new car 

The family group chat blowing up with dancing emojis 

And I sit wondering, his wife always wanted this car 

She loved driving around the city running errands for people

Material things brought her endless joy and she was not ashamed to admit it 

And my uncle and her always planned road trips in their retirement

But now that the car is home,

It will never know my aunt’s rash driving 

It will never smell like her jasmine oil

And it will never have silly trinkets hanging from the rearview mirror

I spent 3 hours crying

My friend sat next to me and asked me questions about my aunt

What was she like? Were you close? How did she make chai?

I reminisce about my beautiful childhood living in her warmth and get overwhelmed by the memories of her funeral

My mother told me to be happy about my uncle’s new purchase,

Be proud of his success,

Find solace in knowing my aunt is boasting about this in Heaven

But grief lives at the back of my throat

I can taste it every time I take a bite too big 

But I can’t stop biting in

I am in misery thinking about my cousin’s bride 

She will never know the force of nature his mother was 

She will never taste her amazing coconut chocolate balls 

And she will never laugh with her

But neither will I 

I will never hug my aunt again 

Watch her struggle with her phone

Drink chai and gossip

Ask her if she read my blog

I will forever live in the vacuum of Margi Shah 

But thank god she recorded audios of her silly stories and took selfies 

Hand made little trinkets for everyone 

And held my hand long enough for my palm to forever know her soft skin

And my heart to know her love

Grief consumes me

I miss my grandma, my ex-lovers and my preschool teacher 

I think about my father’s friends who left him too soon

And my friends I no longer talk to 

I get nostalgic about my childhood best friend’s nanny 

I tear up thinking about the Physics lab assistant in my high school who got cancer at 32

I grieve and I grieve and I grieve

I wonder where my blue Princess and the Pauper sipper is

Will the aftertaste of that loss ever wash off?