1.0PoohsDenhttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsdenVinithahttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/author/pooh_admin/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="N8tyg98lXE"><a href="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/phew-2/">Phew</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/phew-2/embed/#?secret=N8tyg98lXE" width="600" height="338" title="“Phew” — PoohsDen" data-secret="N8tyg98lXE" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> I want to write about the unknown emotion that fills me. The waves crashing within me. The butterflies in my stomach that refuse to settle down. I spent yet another sleepless night. There was nothing I could do but then love does it to you. I hate thinking about the past but those who know me from long back know that I lost my grandfather post a simple surgery. The images are so vivid. I cannot help but be scared. We (my mother, my brother and myself) act strong but we all are thinking about the same thing. We are spread out in different corners of the world remembering the dreadful day 9 years back and connecting it to present day. I broke down when kuttyma innocently asked “is paati awake yet?” At 3.5 it is too young for her to understand about surgery, anesthesia and post-operative care. I try to tread on it softly. I am staying home and clinging to routine because of her. Given a chance, I will be there in Chennai. I read my book without actually realizing what I am reading. I write to clear my mind which refuses to do so. I ask myself […]