It has been two years today. I lean against the faded walls and look at his photo that has been adorned with fresh jasmines. I touch the flowers gently, feeling their softness against my skin. The scent of the flowers wafts through the kitchen, mingling with the fragrance of the incense Ma has lit at the door of each room. It’s a relief from the odour of the chicken and fish curries that pervades the halls normally. I play with the jasmine again making one of the petals flake. I pick it up quickly and throw it into the dustbin,...
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