The lovely Death Train

This time death train came with more members. The death train comes often in my dreams and boy, I love it when it chugs into the platform strangely called Life and pulls away leaving behind a cloud of memories and tears. My heart gets heavy like lead and I can actually feel that lump in my throat. 
The old members hadnt grown old but with all their lovely heart, they sympathased with the new members. Especially my cousin who passed away unexpectadly at the age of 51. His mom is still alive. His late dad and his dad’s mom shed tears for his mom who would be amongst the living dead. My dad was there too, looking at me with his benevolent eyes, at arms length – me who is never a hugger, ran to him and hugged. He pushed me out of the train.
My aunts and uncles were there too – lovely smile playing in their lips, they asked me about my mom and my sister. I saw different generations there in that coach. Even that uncle who was dust-allergic and dust-phobic was dusting the seats with this towel improvised as a duster. His wife, my favourite aunt, was getting  irritated at his dusting-away and it showed. Their banter based on dusting episodes such as this were always a great source of humour for me and my sister. The new entrant to the band was my eldest aunt, who passed away a month back. She was busy narrating stories that her two sisters, two brothers and her parents missed. She was always a great story-teller and I could see that hadnt changed a bit. Oh, yes I also saw my darling Sandy – our first pet who choked on her food one day and made it to heaven. She was curled beneath my dad’s feet.
I tried hard to get an entry and was pushed by everyone with a loving reprimand.  The train chugged away and I was still in the platform, waiting for its sighting again, another night, in my dreams.
Sigh, I miss them all…like crazy

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