Another birthday approaching, bro. And we continue to live in our existential void where one day folds into another without even a whimper. Our life seems to have fallen in this regulated rhythm of a life support machine. While it supports life, there is not much living in there. We will again go through tomorrow like we have since you left. Ma’s silent wet eyes, fresh garland on your photo frame and Baba desperately trying to hang on to any conversation that doesn’t mention you. Sometime, I want to shake them up and get them to shriek how much they miss you. Maybe, that will ease my guilt somewhat. Maybe, it will also ease the strain of nonchalance. Perhaps then, I will be able to hold them again and tell them that everything will be ok, eventually.