Love, Life and Happiness

Life sometime seems like a walk through the desert with little change in the scenarios, deaths are only punctuations sewed on an otherwise plain, uneventful story as someone called it "a tedious story twice told". Last week I lost some one who was once very close to me, who in older days of joint families would have been termed as head of the family in Indian context. My paternal uncle, the oldest among the brothers, my father had passed away. Why I say once close is because the present has a nasty way of messing up with the past. I still remember the love that he showered on me when I used to visit him as a child. A child has great capacity of love, unhindered by other considerations and I would love him with same vigour and enthusiasm as I would my own parents. Families grow, larger and apart, and so did we as the distances found a way into the closely knit relation till the time we came to a point that whenever we both families looked at each other, we would look as if g