Today I used the last of dried Tamarind my grandma packed for me two years ago. Two years ago, I did not foresee that she will no longer be there to pack me another consignment. Having lived alone almost all my life, going back home once a quarter was an absolute delight. Grandma would be waiting on the portico, sometime, she would not not sleep late into nights, waiting for her favorite grandson's footsteps to alight. She would hug me and when she did, everything was all right.
Tonight's fish curry tastes wonderful. Wonderful because the last sprinkle of tamarind adds to the spice. There will be this spice no more. Ah! fickle life!