The Smell of Pancakes and Forgotten Love

I came into the living room that smelled of a burning pancake. Sitting on the chair, I stared at the picture that hung on the wall. A beautiful newlywed couple was smiling at me.

My father came out of his room, his shoulders now drooping with all the burdens he’s been carrying around for years, his eyes were now hooded with the fat accumulating above his eyes.

I saw my father after a long time!

The last time I saw him was when I was a 4th grader. He was slender, in a very elegant way, his hair, which was now disheveled and graying at the sides, was once jet black, oiled and neatly combed back, with a flick on his forehead.

He stood tall and sturdy. He looked like someone who could solve all the issues with his diplomatic talks and beautiful hand gestures. He was just beautiful. 

I had always thought about what my mother would have looked like. 

Would she have grown beautiful with age, her hands filled with glass bangles and her hair parted from the middle with a pinch of bright red vermilion that would fall on her nose while she would try applying it, proving that my father had loved her a little too much? 

He had let her go, finally, after years of sadness, grief, and despise; he had started forgetting her. However, he could never completely let all her memories drown in the seas of his mundane lifestyle. 

The reason was very simple, because I had taken after my mother, my face, mannerisms, habits, etc., all and everything about me reminded him of the love of his life. 

Along with the reminiscing came a huge wave of grief that he couldn’t save her, be with her when she needed him the most. The guilt was only building up and eating him from within. I would often see him holding her picture, looking at it deeply, and sighing. 

Another thing that I cannot truly remember in its entirety is how they met.

But somewhere, I had written everything I heard from my grandma about their love story, how they did not care about the boundaries and constraints of society—and fought against everyone to be together, only to end up alone in two different realms. 

Coming to the living room, my father glanced my way and said, ” Can you smell something strange?” 

“Yup”, I said, not looking up at him.