My father probably would never feel the same after today. He lost his father and I can’t even imagine the pain of that.
I was planning to go and meet him after a cousins wedding; perhaps I will now meet only his memories. His office, the king size blue chair, too many diaries and colorful medicines (once I popped in a few coz I thought they were gems), nasal drops, specs, coins, antique lighters, some detective novels and a huge library of legal reference books.
The last time I saw him was at my wedding, almost 2 years back. I don’t even remember when did I spoke with him last. He upset me, made me cry, didn’t stand with the right when we needed him and see I punished him. I stopped talking to him, never went to meet him and tried too hard to not even remember his old wrinkled face.
And what I realized today is, I punished myself too. I can too feel the immense pain of being disconnected.
I remember how he spoiled me completely with his love. He never used to mind when I ate from his plate, and would always say in surprise, “aapke plate se dal chawal ka tatse alag kyu aata hai”. He used to get us so many presents every year for diwali and always ask me to help mom in rangoli. I was such a mess with rangoli.