Its 6.45 AM, and am in the kitchen, putting together a breakfast for Vyas. Having brushed and washed, he walks into the kitchen to wish me good morning. He puts his arms around my waist and I draw him to my bosom for a warm ‘good-morning’ hug and plant a kiss on his head. We hang on a little longer, taking in the moment. Am transported back in time by about 28 years or so. I can still feel the softness of her cotton saree and the smell of Mysore Sandal soap. My face buried in her bosom. Warm. Secure. Assuring. Comforting. Does it take forever for a longing to cease?