The tale of Thukpa @gymkhana91

The days were empty. And she had the wall clock for company. It ticked mercilessly as she watched her time fade into oblivion. She picked up her phone and looked at her daughter’s picture. Beautiful, she thought. But she dropped an emoji in lieu of a call, just because she knew how busy she was at work. As the sun set, so did her heart, sinking into the abyss of loneliness. But then the doorbell rang, shocking her heart to beat faster. Quick steps opened the door as she saw her walk in. They sat in the living room. The daughter lost somewhere in her phone and the mother waiting to begin a conversation. The wait continued. But the conversation didn’t begin. Until she said, “How was your day?” The daughter replied without sparing a glance in her direction. “Good, mom,” she said insipidly. Her heart started to sink again as she waited for her to ask the same question. But she never did. Days passed. As she spent her time with the clock and her daughter—continued to court her phone. But today, as she sat counting the seconds in the day, her phone rang loud and clear. “Come down, I need you here.” She ran, as if her life depended on it. Was her daughter in trouble? The worst thoughts crept into her head. Until she found her waiting in the car below. And before she knew it, they were sitting at a table in a Victorian, gymkhana-like restaurant. She slurped on the warmth of the Tibetan noodle soup—the thukpa, and felt it balm her soul as she sat there with her daughter. The beautifully minced chicken with the north eastern spices added the flavour to life that she had been looking for… Her daughter smiled at her lovingly as she dug into her soup and said, “how was your day?” And then, the conversation began..

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