I really don’t have the right words. The fact is that I don’t know my father at all always bothers me. He died 17 years ago when we were all too young. Although I do remember almost everything that happened on 31st May’92…Everyone was celebrating like mad, cause nobody knew as to what would happen on 1st June.
I don’t want to sound bitter about it. I often think about those who lost their fathers before they were even born. After all, I know how he grinned. I know he was an avid reader. You know I often go through his books & read the passages & lines that he marked. I try to know him by reading all that. In fact Bertrand Russell became one of my mentors, cause Papa really liked him.
I was a very wild & rude child, so far as my parents are concerned. When I look back, I don’t like the way I said things to both of them & I was just a child. Once I was talking to Papa & he was busy reading & I threw away all the stuff on table & also the table. I vividly remember before his death, he was asking me to buy something from the bakery & I didn’t even bother to answer back. And strangely enough I would very much like to argue & fight with him how I argue with my mom.
You get to know your parents better when you grow up. I didn’t get the chance. Even Umar & Zara didn’t get that chance. Our elder siblings were lucky, but we weren’t. You know I take the death of a father as something like this…you are wrapped up in a shawl & someone grabs it from you. It’s so cold out there & still you don’t have that shawl. Wolves are ready to devour you. A lot of people say that if you have brothers, you don’t need to miss your father. It’s all bullshit. I have 3 brothers & I don’t think there is any comparison between a father & a brother. Elder siblings can never take the place of a parent. They are just your elder siblings & parents are parents. No can take their place. No one even deserves to be compared to them.
Yesterday I was saying to Zara that we have gone beyond the point of being sad. And one of my friends said that God knows why it happened. I’m sure He does. But I don’t see any good in it. The thing that bothers me today is that I don’t know him. And it will bother me forever. There is no substitute for a father.
There are so many times I want to talk on topics & I just don’t find anyone who could even get my point. Many a time, it seems such a waste to express yourself. It seems I’m insulting words by uttering them in front of people who can’t understand what I’m saying. I wish I could talk to him. Talking to your parents is all together another experience. There are things that I have discussed with my mother, but I can’t think of writing them down.
I also feel bad that I should have protected his house, but I didn’t. And I’m sorry for that as I have never been sorry for anything in my life & I mean it. Hurting your parents is the worst crime. I don’t know how I’m going to make things right, but that’s what I intend to do.
Of course I miss him like any child would miss his parent. It seems unfair how he died though. He wasn’t even that old. However, there is one hope. When I die, at least there would be Papa, Dadi, my brother Aurangzeb & all my pets waiting for me. But before that I have to clear up a lot of mess. God bless my soul! I need it & so does Z.
This is the 2nd time I have to ask my mom to read something I have written…something in which there is no room to make an impression. That is what I like about parents.
I don’t want to sound bitter about it. I often think about those who lost their fathers before they were even born. After all, I know how he grinned. I know he was an avid reader. You know I often go through his books & read the passages & lines that he marked. I try to know him by reading all that. In fact Bertrand Russell became one of my mentors, cause Papa really liked him.
I was a very wild & rude child, so far as my parents are concerned. When I look back, I don’t like the way I said things to both of them & I was just a child. Once I was talking to Papa & he was busy reading & I threw away all the stuff on table & also the table. I vividly remember before his death, he was asking me to buy something from the bakery & I didn’t even bother to answer back. And strangely enough I would very much like to argue & fight with him how I argue with my mom.
You get to know your parents better when you grow up. I didn’t get the chance. Even Umar & Zara didn’t get that chance. Our elder siblings were lucky, but we weren’t. You know I take the death of a father as something like this…you are wrapped up in a shawl & someone grabs it from you. It’s so cold out there & still you don’t have that shawl. Wolves are ready to devour you. A lot of people say that if you have brothers, you don’t need to miss your father. It’s all bullshit. I have 3 brothers & I don’t think there is any comparison between a father & a brother. Elder siblings can never take the place of a parent. They are just your elder siblings & parents are parents. No can take their place. No one even deserves to be compared to them.
Yesterday I was saying to Zara that we have gone beyond the point of being sad. And one of my friends said that God knows why it happened. I’m sure He does. But I don’t see any good in it. The thing that bothers me today is that I don’t know him. And it will bother me forever. There is no substitute for a father.
There are so many times I want to talk on topics & I just don’t find anyone who could even get my point. Many a time, it seems such a waste to express yourself. It seems I’m insulting words by uttering them in front of people who can’t understand what I’m saying. I wish I could talk to him. Talking to your parents is all together another experience. There are things that I have discussed with my mother, but I can’t think of writing them down.
I also feel bad that I should have protected his house, but I didn’t. And I’m sorry for that as I have never been sorry for anything in my life & I mean it. Hurting your parents is the worst crime. I don’t know how I’m going to make things right, but that’s what I intend to do.
Of course I miss him like any child would miss his parent. It seems unfair how he died though. He wasn’t even that old. However, there is one hope. When I die, at least there would be Papa, Dadi, my brother Aurangzeb & all my pets waiting for me. But before that I have to clear up a lot of mess. God bless my soul! I need it & so does Z.
This is the 2nd time I have to ask my mom to read something I have written…something in which there is no room to make an impression. That is what I like about parents.
