Mummy's notes, and the curious case of Kapil Sibal

It is exactly two years since my mother passed away; even more time has lapsed since I last wrote from my heart. 

How essential it is for one to come to terms with #life and #living through speaking the mind -- I'm beginning to understand -- either by talking to someone you trust or, perhaps spilling yourself over paper...in my case: a laptop.

It doesn't really matter which platform allows your expression and sets free your mind; it's all about the process - and, this is tied to your growth as a person, as a human being, as a soul even. 

It's the simplest, the most inconspicuous of things, the casual stuff we take for granted that stick in the contours of our minds, I'm discovering. 

I found my mother's handwriting! 

Hadn't seen it for two years already, and it was never the first thing I've recalled when memories of her flash in my mind. It's always been about how she did things, or what she had said, sometimes contours of her face, her smile... not her handwriting. It was the best I had even seen - neat, well-formed... rather artistic. 

Her little notes on a clipper in the middle of the dinning table at home - yes - she was our 'diary' with a list of birthdays and anniversaries of family members and friends, reminding us religiously to "call and wish" "do our duty to aunties and uncles!" How I hated to be reminded, she knew, but that never stopped her from sending messengers (my kids) with precise information! Oh, and when she got to using WhatsApp, well it was a steady stream :-)

No one does this monthly ritual of maintaining and reminding anymore; we hardly make it in time to wish for birthdays or wedding anniversaries. I could never remember them -- I am not my mum -- I cannot be like her -- I don't want to. It will be like replacing her in a way, aping her ways of doing things... it might compromise memories somehow? I don't know; don't want to go down that road. 

So - this one-sided paper pad I found dates back to 2005, and the opening page has the body measurements of one of my cousin's... shoulder, neck, chest, waist, shoulder to knee length... These are on the left side corner of the page. Among other scribbles, somewhere in the middle is a sentence: "Sunday 12th Mike and Angy are coming for lunch." Towards the end of the page - "Kapil Sibal" - bold writing and circled. 

I was so curious! What is Mr Sibal doing below a luncheon reminder, on the same page as my cousin's dress measurements!? What was happening in December 2005...could I make a connection? 

I actually did a quick Google search, but naturally couldn't make a connection. I obviously did not know what to look for, but I know this: If my mother made a deliberate note, then it should have been important because she only wrote down 'important' information, especially to pass on to us. 

After all, he did receive priority :-))