The old pressure cooker

Amma's old pressure cooker stopped working Today. I had completed about its whistle for years, especially when I was trying to study. But when she packet it away, the kitchen felt strangely quiet. I remembered waking up to that sound before school 🏫, complaining about breakfast 🥞 while she rushed between the stove and my uniform. I offered to buy her a new cooker, and she laughed at how sentimental I had become. Still, I caught myself listening for the familiar whistle tonight. It is strange how the things we find irritating can become the sounds we miss most.