Diya

Once, when I was little, I had a little box, all pink and gold with a tiny lock in the shape of a heart. I put all my treasures in it. Whatever treasure means to a six-year-old. Clips, a chewed-up pencil, a shiny bracelet.

Then I decided I was going to fill it with love. I insisted my father put his love in it. That my mother fill it with her kisses. They did so, laughing. Then I closed the box tightly so that I could save that love all my life. But in the morning the box was empty.

It has stayed empty all my life. The older I got, the more I realized that it was empty. My father never really loved me. My mother didn’t dare.

The last thing that Aman did was give me a gift. He gave me a treasure box. A box filled with so much love, it is enough to last my whole life.