Continued from Part-3 of the four part Mini Reading Series (MRS)– “The Unrequited Love Story of a Father & a Son.”
I was surrounded by sorrow, suffering, grief, anguish and affliction. My father was no more to guide me how to face the world. The person who had protected me against every tough reality about life, had been snatched away from me.
Day after another people kept returning back to their homes. We also began to reorganize ourselves with the changed dynamics. In the mean term, I went to Haridwar for dissolving my father’s ashes from the crematorium into the pious waters of the river Ganga. And, it was now time for us to take up another very important job that could not be delayed.
Before any of this happened, Papa and I had been researching over which College I should take admission into. I was about to join a College in maybe a month or two. Day and night, I would search trivial details about reputed colleges and discuss their prospects with Papa.
He too had been engrossed in the activity. In fact, I was rather complacent as Papa was taking care of the job. I knew that Papa would do the needful and I won’t have to worry much. Who knew that just in a matter of days, things were just about to change.
Now, it was Maa and I. She proved to be a very brave woman. She was not in a state where I could have bothered her about anything at all at that tough phase. But, she emerged out of it really quick. She knew that our future now depended on my education and she didn’t let the affliction compromise that future.
She involved one of my closest cousins into the process and we three in tandem got into the College hunt. And, had she and my cousin not have been courageous and strong enough to do so, I alone would have been incapacitated to take any bold decisions at that moment.
Eventually things began to fall in place. One things led to another and I finally got enrolled into ABV-IIITM, Gwalior. This phase was tough. I had just lost a father and my Maa had recently been bereaved of her husband. And, instead of taking time to calm down and heal from the deep wounds, we were both trying to save my future out here.
Before leaving for my College she just said one thing to me- “Your father had three dreams. One was to own a car of his own. He actualized that. Second was to have a shed of our own. He realized that dream of his as well. The third one was to ensure I had a secure and safe future. The onus is now on you.”
I told her, “Your son will not give you a chance to complain.” I added that “I will become the best person that papa wanted me to become, and I will become very successful in whatever domain I venture into.” I uttered those words with biting lips and a dry mouth. It was so because I had no idea about how I was going to make it happen.
And, it is with those words of Maa, my commitment and the last dream of Papa, that I entered the gates of my new College on 11th August 2014.
All around me I saw these new faces. Each one of those were brimming with energy. Everyone was enthused to have finally become College students. So was I. But, I also found myself to be lost amidst all of this vivacity. At home, every single thing reminded me of Papa while here at College there were none of those things. Yet, I was feeling that he is right here standing behind my back.
I knew that he had left for his heavenly abode. But, for some reason I could still feel his presence all the time. And, thus it was getting really tough for me to accustom to the sacrosanct but harsh truth that, “He was not there anymore.”
Almost every day I would cry when alone, and I would try to talk to him in my head. I would tell myself to stop thinking of him. But, at the same time I would only think of him and the memories I had created with him around in the days of yore.
I would ask him questions that would bother me. I would write my thoughts, problems and issues on pieces of paper. Sometimes I would type them out on my laptop. At times, I would even read them to Papa when my roommate won’t be around. I was simply not ready to accept that my father was going to leave me just like that.
I just kept telling myself- “Maybe his soul is lost in this world, but would come back as soon as he finds me. And then, Papa would answer my queries and help me find ways to extrude out the affliction that was bringing me down every now and then.”
Days passed by as I kept writing down my thoughts and reading them to Papa. Those days then turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The tears which used to roll down my eyes while typing my thoughts or reading them began to cease now. But, the visceral affliction and his memories would still not allow me to move ahead.
I wished for him to guide me about what to do and what not to do. I wished for him to infuse some wisdom into me. I yearned for him to tell me how I could keep Maa the happiest. I wanted him to tell me all that he wanted me to become and achieve in life, so I could move on that path.
I wished for him to share with me the secret of how he found strength in tough situations. I wished for so much from him. I just could not move over his memories and thoughts. But, with time I also got busy with the College curriculum, activities and studies. Almost two more months had passed with me recuperating.
By now my mind had begun to calm down and the pain also began to efface. I was much more focused on my life and studies. I was taking steps to improve my speaking skills, technical and programming ken and much more. Owing to the recent habit of writing I had also begun a blog where I would write articles of sundry topics.
I would write there about my life experiences and observations. I was trying to move ahead in life.
Then, one day I observed something. This blew my senses off the hook. I observed that my handwriting was no more what it used to be almost two or three months earlier. It had completely changed. It was my father’s handwriting.
I know that this may sound surreal to the reader, but this is the truth that changed my life. I observed that I had begun to write in the same hand writing that my father used to practice. I felt that my father had come back to me and he was answering all my questions and problems with words that come out of my own hands.
Back then, I had been wondering for quite a few days, why do I always feel an urge to write all the time. And then, I realized that it was my father who wished to talk to me using my words, pen and paper as a medium. While the reader may want to laugh over this and call me eccentric, this is my life’s greatest truth.
And, that’s how I kept falling in love with writing. Every passing day after that realization my father drove me into directions and avenues that I am ever grateful for. This habit of writing that brought back my father to me became the root cause for everything good that was happening in my life since that day of June.
It was this realization that made my greatest power. My father never really left me. he had returned from the dead to help me grow and better myself. He had returned to guide me how to achieve the greatness he had envisioned for me. That day, my father came back to me breaking all sciences and physics.
My father and I still talk the same way. I feel that all the thoughts that I write or type out today are a direct narrative of whatever my father wishes to convey to me. And, that’s why I believe that every time I write, I have a smiling face, and am always brimming with excitement, joy and thrill.
It is because of this reincarnation of my father in the form of this inanimate habit of writing that it has become my priority and my passion. It is that activity for me, which I dedicate several hours every day. And, yet I wish I could do more of it. it is no more just a habit, but an essence of father and my love.
That was- The Unrequited Love Story of a Father & a Son. When I was a child and growing up, my father and I never really got enough opportunities to show each other just how immensely we adore each other.
He did his best to show his love but was ridden by paucity of time free from work. And, I was too busy to acknowledge his busy work life and thus ended up giving all of my love to Maa only. But, once he left the world, it was then that I discovered what I had been missing.
I then realized what the love of my father was worth. I now acknowledged the pious but veiled love of my father which had been snatched away from me. Now, I missed his presence more than ever and I wanted him to experience my love.
But, he was no more around.
Now it’s just his thoughts, words and memories that I have in my head. And, it is only those assets that I value. They keep me going through every thick and think that life surprises me with.
And, I love try to express my love to him by embracing those thoughts and words. That’s the essence of my beloved Papa I carry with me in every iota of my life.
I thank each and every reader to have invested so much of their time into reading this MRS. The love and blessings that has been showered upon me by a number of you readers is something that I will cherish for a long time to come.
Wishing the reader an enriching day and a blissful night ahead!