I don't know in which decade grief was defined as a negative emotion. It is infact an outburst of several blended emotions altogether. I don't know which decade came up with meaning of 'move on' as stop the grieving and make progress, when in reality progress can be made while still allowing the heart to rent its memories to the grief.

I hope that you are not one of the stars. Whether guiding or not, stars eventually break. You have been my moon; my only constant.
I hope you can watch me progress, since that moment when I stood and watched your ashes progressing with the ripples of river.

Instead of sitting alone at dinner and stirr despair of your absence in my tears , I order fifty plates of your favourite mutton curry from Kareem's, which you said tasted exactly like how your uncle cooked it , took it to the old age home near our apartment on weekends.
Instead of trying to keep your side of bed as it was since you left us all, I changed the bedsheet to your favorite blue colour and gave away the old sheets to the homeless man who slept on shop stairs.
Most importantly, we are moving back to Mumbai this summer. I remember how much I hated staying back in Lucknow but since you left, anxiety gripped my feet and brought me back in the cradle of familiarity.
You told me that it is only after we overcome the unfamiliarity that strange things get a chance to become familiar with us;
It is your consistent persuasion that is directing my path to Mumbai this year and Vancouver in the next couple of years. .

Grief won't easily let go of it's residence in me when I go back to these places where we insanely spent ourselves together on each other. But I know that as time progressed, the sting has become less painful.And dear readers, it is not the time that is the fixative of everything but the progress!

© Divya