Sheekha Singh

Writer, Technologist & Podcast Host

That Unfinished Red Brick Wall

It is the second week of January and things are slowly but steadily falling into place. Sipping on my non-fat latte, I look up and stare at the white blanket of snow outside. I realize that I am the only one in the coffee shop. I look around. There is a pot of succulents on the table in the corner and the cacti stands out to me. I notice the brick wall. The un-plastered and un-finished red brick wall.

I look down and shut my eyes in anguish.

My tablet lies still on the table, with the open pages of an e-book staring right at me, wanting to be finished. My fingers start to tremble. I hear a faint noise and as I look down to check my phone, I see the Facebook history notification pop up. I open the notification and in that instant, the screen of my tablet witnesses my weakness, my agony and the melancholy of a mourning heart. There is that static in my head once more and I feel hopeless. I feel like I’ve been hit with a baseball bat in the head. I look out for something to soothe me, but my vision is blurred. That feeling of longing had crept in. My face is now swollen and my chin starts to tremble again. I start to collapse from within. I look at that red brick wall which was not plastered intentionally and I look at that notification again. I feel like the cactus is staring at me and mocking me. I feel the prick like a sharp sting. The black screen of my tablet now tries to soak in the salty drops that fall from my eyes. I pick up a tissue and as I try to wipe my tears, I realize why that red brick wall was not plastered.

It is weird how pictures make you feel. It is weird how you feel. It was a picture from last year. We were happy, and she was proud. We both were posing, not knowing how time would treat us later. It was her birthday. It is funny how we re-live moments today.

I see the red brick wall and I see me…


Incomplete without her..



Garbled in my own misery, wishing we had clicked more pictures. Wishing I could hug her a thousand times more. Hoping I could kiss her and tell her how much I love her and what she means to me. I wish I could go back in time and re-live today, a million times more, look at her and make her feel special, so that she feels happy for having me with her on this special day of hers. I wish I could go back and thank her, kiss her feet and let her know that she did her job well, as a parent.

As a mother.

Wherever she is, I want her to know that I won’t give up on her. I won’t stop loving her and I won’t stop making her proud.

I see myself in the red brick wall. I see me ‘as’ that red brick wall.

That hollowun-polishedundone and un-finished red brick wall.

Source: Google Images

InExAcT as always

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