I am feeling sad, pappa. Life is tough.
I know you cannot read this, but I don't know how to get it out of my mind. I don't know who will listen and who I can burden with, with my thoughts which keep recurring time to time when I am facing challenges.
You were such a stable support for me through my childhood. You never let me be beat up by my insecurities and inferiority complex. You raised me, actually all your daughters to be fighters. You made sure that if push comes to shove, we will manage it. You never stopped me or let me take no for an answer for whichever direction I set my sails to.
It is surprising that most of my life I never even had a thought like - What if I do this and fail? What if I have no one to help me? I failed only a few times and failed a few times badly. You kept me going and in your own traditional ways found means for me to rise up again.
Remember Engineering Mechanics? Passi sir? SEED institute? Shorter height meant I was behind in many sports and my class could have bullied me...but you made me so so mentally strong that no one could even dare.
You once told me that height is not important to be successful. You wanted me to be a collector. I went in engineering. You said join Infy when I had a campus offer. I wanted to study post-grad. People around us said that I was mad to let go of such a good offer. Mom thought that the only software company in the world was Infosys. You arranged money from a private lender, which was so heartbreaking. I took a loan next year, but never realized that you never even asked me the first year money back! And I could have done so much more to return your favour before I was married.
When the whole world said that I cannot drive a car cause I might not be able to reach the pedels, you, being a quality officer in Central Government Vehicle Ordanance, said that it is simply not true. You said I should learn it anyway and then find a car that suits me. And I did! You always said to me that you can always sit relaxed while I was driving.
While other kids were busy playing and watching TV (local channels), you wanted us to learn English so we were the only ones who had all English channels, US and UK movies CDs and music and novels. You made me take Coding, typing, Public speaking, debates and were proud of the fact that I was doing well there. And how could I forget the books! From DC and Marvel comic books - no one in our whole town knew those back then, when I had a huge set - to Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes novels... and later to Engineering reference books. All was paid by you dearly, and without a word. How did you manage pappa? How did you have the money in your government job salary? Didn't you feel somewhere that I should avoid buying all this!
Strong though you made me, today I feel so lonely sometimes. Things are not all glittery and glamourous all the while. You would have wanted me to stand up and deal with it with vigour. But I think I do not have that support anymore. I break down sometimes thinking that if you'd be here, you'd say, "It's ok. Do this, or do it like that.", and I would have either argued with you or listened to you. At least I was heard.
Today, so many months after your passing, I think no one can fill that void. When I notice any gray haired old man with his daughter or a son passing by, I think they have the world with them yet. They are still young, small, someone's kid, someone's kid who can ask questions, make mistakes, cry in their laps, get up and dance again. When a parent is lost, no matter what your age is, you are no longer a child. You are a grown up and have to act like one.
I will meet you one day dad and cry a lot for not letting me take care of you more while you were sick. I will scold you for leaving us so soon. I will say sorry cause I was not understanding enough or soft spoken enough.
I will never leave you again. Someday.
