अंत

All she left in her vapor wake 

Is the stink of my singed heart and 

The aroma of her sugar and roses

She lived a 100 years. I had not seen her in a long time and she finally lost her patience a year ago. I heard about it from V with hints of distress on the phone. No one was allowed by Dad to display any more. I was all alone here after all. "No mourning allowed if you are alone". So I didn't cry in front of him. I found my solace in her full life(whatever that means), I imagine, of happiness, grief, leaving home, re-establishment, and a painless, peaceful departure.
Death, and it's finality are eternal truths and all other cliches. But, she was a devout Hindu. The finality of a Hindu death is even stronger. There are no promises of meeting again in a different world or a different life. All everyone strives for is Moksha, leaving behind all moh (desires) and maya (illusions). So every time it comes up my esophagus,  I try to swallow it back with some salty water. Nothing will ever make me feel as guilty as not having been with her right then. And it is never going to go away.