“Heroine, m*******a, methamphetamine, c***k cocaine and all other killer substances became his companions and took him prisoner,” grand Mom said with a tinge of pain evident in her voice. “Narcotics became his mother, father, brothers and sisters, his whole wide world. That was how he went off with some thugs and rarely remembered he came from a home, sometimes returning once in six months, looking gaunt and dirty.”
I could feel grand Mom’s pain as she spoke. She did not stop there. She scratched her grey hairs, twitched her wrinkled face a little, and braced herself up to speak further.
“Writing has never been kind to us, son,” she had said to me, starring at me like she had wanted to swallow me with her eyes whose attractive glow was not diminished one bit by age.
“Grand Mom, do you e
