As I see all the people wishing their own fathers, I try not to think about your absence. Not that father’s day has been a very notable day in our house, but today I felt impaired.
I tried ignoring all the posts because I generally start crying when I think about you. Always. It’s unbearable. That’s how I’ve been coping up ever since you’ve gone. Sounds terrible, but so is life without you.
I wonder what happiness is. When I was small, happiness used to be majorly making you and Mamma proud of me. I remember the smallest events that made you tell people she’s my little girl. I remember you telling others. Yes papa I always noticed.
I don’t get the concept of getting over it with time. I can never get over this. I wonder how you managed when dadaji passed away. You were even left with meager resources to manage your side.
Maybe I am privileged to cry. Probably you weren’t because you were tied up with work and finances.
I do forget that you’re gone. Sometimes i do. What to do, it makes it easy for me. To go ahead with the day, to smile, to work, to live and breathe.
I’m a little weak with emotions. Have always been. If you remember. I know you do.
I feel lonely. Now and then. There’s noone to scold me enough. Noone else to ask me if I’m late from work apart from mamma. Noone to tell me that I’m wasting my life doing the IT job. Noone to tell me that I must take care of my eyes and quit the computer work.
Because noone really cares. Except you two. This is the reality. Truth is not God, like what we were taught in school. Truth is parental love. I’d never thought I’d lose a half this soon.
I’m also less privileged, no doubt.