Do I really care?
What do people think of me? Of us?
Which landmass do I live on?
What is the weather like?
What colour is the bloody sky?
Whose child left for University?
How much money I have left?
Who is coming from where? Who is going somewhere on a holiday?
What’s for dinner tonight? Or any night.
Will I ever have a job to go to?
When will the Amazon-man deliver the stuff I ordered?
Is there any milk in the fridge?
What happens next?
The sun came up from the North-west this morning?
Do I care?
One whole decade in the world ‘after’ Saagar will be completed in the tenth month of this sort-of-new-year. Since the 1st of Jan, every time I read or write 2024, that is the singular thought that comes to mind like an unwelcome guest. How can the world tolerate this? Who authorised for all those days and months to pass? How can this even be allowed to happen? How can I still be here? Who granted permission for this kind of treachery? Is this gorge of yearning bound by any boundaries? Or is it bottomless, without any limits?
Does anybody care?
kidsaregifts 
Our yearning has no boundaries and we are bound by our loss and care so very much. You said the first time you spoke to me that no one can bear the loss but myself but others can hold your hand. I’m holding you on my heart Ros
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Dear Ros, so good to know you’re with me in your empathy and understanding. Thank you. Hope you’re doing really well. x
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