18th June, 2017
This one starts with me sobbing and I’m sorry for that. Because volcanoes do erupt sometimes. When was the last time you had watched me cry? I don’t remember but I know you do.
This one has to be the happy one though, unlike the last open letter. This one has to be about the times when I wanted a toy and you bought me one. This one has to be about the times when I’d done great in exams or in a dance performance and how you’d proudly boasted off about it in front of your colleagues. This one has to be about the cricket matches that we had watched together. Oh and by the way India is playing the final match of CT17 today, against Pakistan.
I remember how you slapped that guy who had hit me with his bike on road. I remember how you said ‘be careful’ every time we’d reach a crossroad while I was driving. I remember once during my exams you had almost failed to wake me up (because I was awake the whole night) and we had an argument about it. Few months later, you told me that you had not ate anything that day because you were feeling sorry. That night, I had cried. Tonight, I still am.
But this one has to be the happy one. The one to let you know how much I miss you. Honestly, I rarely show or let anyone know about it. But there are times when I break down and I break down hard. Nobody knows about it, not even mom, not even my best friend but I know that you know. And I don’t talk about it. Not because I’d break down again but because I don’t like talking about it.
Good thing is, I’ve become strong or at least I’m trying to be. You knew what I want to become and I know that you still do. You know it is always there on my mind. And I know you’ll help to get there and achieve it. Meanwhile, I am being what you wanted me to be. Kind of started doing a job too. Feels good to earn but feels weird to be the man of the house already. You’ve not gone though, you’re here. Right. Here.
It’s funny how 2200 characters in this white space can’t contain everything that I want to say. So, a Happy Father’s Day to you daddy.
By the way, I regularly update the bank passbooks (and sometimes I forget to).
22nd June, 2018
Recently I watched a film that made me miss you more than ever and I just couldn’t stop crying. It was as if a pump was pulling out all of it from deep down inside my heart. It’s been 496 days since you’ve passed away and I have never missed you more. As you might know, life has not been the same since you’ve left. How could it be? I’ve started working at an IT firm, exactly the way you wanted me to. But dad, I don’t like it. I’d never wanted to do this. Though mom tells me a lot about how much she misses you, I never tell her how much do I. In fact, I never tell anyone. I want to apologize to you for not being by your side when you were in the hospital. I used to sit in the waiting room only because I couldn’t see you like that. I never had the strength. Somehow there will always remain a little bit of regret inside me for not being with you on the last day. I hate the fact that I am the man of the house already. I hate the fact that I have so many responsibilities on my shoulder and I don’t have you to guide me through them. I hate how sometimes people feel pity on me. I hate how some of our petty relatives keep on asking me if I am in need of money. I hate watching cricket matches alone without having you to discuss whether it was a correct LBW or not. I hate you for leaving us like this. I really do.
It’s not just me and mom who miss you, there are so many others who miss you as well. Remember that salesman from whom you used to buy socks every 3 months? He was home today, said you were his favourite customer. Your colleagues call every once in a while to tell me how empty the workspace is without you. Even our pet tortoise Om has changed. He’s not that jolly little fellow anymore who used to roam around in the house. The house, life, my heart, it all feels empty without you.
Would you come back if I told you that I pay the electricity bill and fill the bank passbooks on time?
I miss you daddy. And I love you. A lot.
Post by: Purvang Joshi
Picture Credits: Pascal Campion