When parents lose their kid, the biggest victim tends to be the relationship the two once shared. The bond that their child held for them comes under scrutiny. And many a times, the void sucks both the individuals into a place that they never knew existed. A place where cute memories that were meant to cheer them up begin to chide them. A place where could-have and should-have dominate. A place where pain is excruciating but the source becomes misleading. The worst possible scenario is a place where both the parents have turned on each other instead of sticking with each another. In such a case, the healing process gets abandoned. When you lose, you are meant to grieve for a certain period of time before jolting back to reality. When two grown-ups are blaming each other (secretly or openly), both the individuals set on an irredeemable path to damage themselves more than their better half. That's how tragedy strikes in a heart. When my mother lost my younger brother in her arms (he choked on a tablet), my dad was away in Bombay. When he returned home for the funeral, he didn't utter a word. For days, he maintained silence while my mother kept weeping. In the coming years, during spiteful arguments, my dad used to accuse my ma of negligence (murder is too strong a word, right?). Some things are indeed beyond debate and repair. Particularly when neither of the parents know how to deal with a loss.