Amma sprinkled pixie dust everywhere. The entire house brimmed with it, all corners and crevices. It is the kind of thing that wiggles its way everywhere: through the tiny gaps, the soaked almonds, and onto the fragrance of ghee *.
The magic disappeared heavenwards the day Amma left, but I can still see the glitter on the surfaces where the sunshine falls.
a glass of sparkles poured
in her memory
*Ghee is the clarified butter used for cooking in India