Yes, this is my 32nd letter and a small effort from my side to bridge the gap between our worlds. I can neither post these letters nor any postman can deliver them to you. Yet I write hoping that, one day, your spirit will come and connect with me.
Dad, you were in such a great mood the day before the Onam festival. You got me my favorite banana chips, and I joyfully jumped like a small kid. You cracked jokes, and we laughed our lungs out that evening.
It’s not like we’ve never seen this side of your nature, but that day, you were a different person, maybe because you had recently gotten promoted and were on cloud nine. I didn’t ask, though, because I was busy relishing my food and crispy chips. Little did I know that it would be our last evening together.
All three of us were so happy the previous day. Who knew a few hours later, a brand new day would bring the news of your demise? What had actually triggered this sudden turn of events? Were you under some stress that you hid from Mom and me?
There was a smile on your face when they brought you home covered in a white sheet. What should I understand? Your promotion hinted at success, but was there a silent struggle you never revealed? I wish I had asked or probed a little deeper into the folds of your thoughts.
The doctors said it was a cardiac arrest. But how can that happen without any symptoms and signs? I grapple with these questions, wondering if there was something we missed, something that could have changed that fateful day.
Over three decades have passed since you departed, yet the pain lingers as if time has stood still. The day you went away scattered our lives like shards of glass. The thought that you were so young and had countless dreams to fulfil adds an extra layer of ache to my heart. Unfortunately, God had different plans. Every bit is etched in my memory.
You know Dad, Mom, with her unwavering strength, did everything to fill the void you left. She raised me with love, but the absence of your presence echoes to date. How I wish you were here to witness my journey through college, my ventures into the professional world, my solo travels, my wedding, and every achievement.
Dad, wherever you are now, I pray for your happiness and good health.
Dad, until we meet again.