As the sweat trickled down your arm, it touched the Sanghamitra tattoo. I’m sorry aunty, I’d tell her if she was here, if at all I was important enough to have hurt you. To have sent those words of fury to your father. You were right, you never smell. Your being was like baby’s breath to me. It was only after you left that I got the horrible stench. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for true love, love. I’m sorry for that burden. I wasn’t thinking.