When I was a kid, I used to stand at my balcony and try to look at the sun. I liked the way the gazing at sun tickles my eyes. My mother used to call it my gazing game. To get me off my grid, she would always tell me some scientific facts about what happens when we directly look at sun. It would mostly include creepy facts. She used to tell fun facts about things I know nothing about – I know she used to do it deliberately. She was a student counsellor at college. She knew how to divert a kid's thought process from one lane to another. I close my eyes and after a fall of darkness I see a ray of light. I can't feel my dad's hand in my hand anymore and in the instance of me trying to summon my sense I hear my mother's voice. "Sunshine! come back now and finish your breakfast" I hear. I turn back joltingly open my eyes. A chilled breeze runs through my veins. I see my mom standing in front of me. My eyes are wide open and I gaze her "mom" I whisper to myself. "Sweetheart, no excuses now come to the breakfast" she says frowning her eyebrows like she always does "it's your big day today."