Day 1303: When Dad Left for his Maker

This past year has been one of amends. One I am partially proud of. One you’d never be proud of. Drastic changes always had you in knots. But that’s what life has been all about lately. Am I sad all this is happening? No. Am I happy? No. But that’s for best sometimes! I thought…

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Day 1266: When Dad Left for his Maker

I guess what tends to amaze me the most is – people. They are unpredictable, insensitive, and for most part, just unbearable. *Of course, not all of them!* I write about dad, about what I feel without him, because I don’t want to lose him, not yet. You must think I’m stupid, plain daft. That…

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Day 951: When Dad left for his Maker

Like a wave, they catch me off guard and take me to crannies dense with your memories. Aisles I’ve been eluding find my steps and pull me in, and before I know I am tracing paths, the same old paths I have been avoiding, but I guess I haven’t been doing a very good job…

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Close to Lost – A Memoir

The light’s a dim yellow. Just the way you liked. I leave it that way. Each night. For seven hundred and thirty one nights. Exactly two years. I stare at the ceiling, and then some at the walls. They stare back. Blank. They’re lost too. At times, they move. The window panes on the ceiling,…

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3 Things My Father Never Taught Me

It’s Father’s Day, and I miss papa terribly today. I am happy for those who still have their fathers around. Trust me, you’re luckier than many. Those of you who have been following my blog probably know that I lost my father 2 years ago. There isn’t a day I don’t miss him, but days…

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Day 662: When Dad Left for his Maker

There is this song that makes me miss you so much. The song I speak of is Alone by Alan Walker. I do not know who’s the singer. But something is different about the music. It takes me to a place I so want to be. And I know that place is nowhere. Because no…

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Day 547: When Dad Left for his Maker

Dear papa, Your father. Your brothers. Your uncles. Same faces. Similar voices. Their presence. Your absence. Tearing chaos. Overbearing silence. I don’t want to meet them. I want them all gone. Even for an hour, I can’t stand them. You stare back from those faces. You speak in their voices. You are there, yet not…

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Day 500: When Dad Left for his Maker

The other day, a dog by the street side kept staring at me.  First, I thought he was hungry. So I fed him. But even then he had that look about him; a quizzical, strange look. I couldn’t name it. Was he trying to say something? I had read somewhere that your departed communicate with…

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Day 365: When Dad Left for his Maker

Dear papa, You’re gone a year today and you’ll want to know this. I don’t cry today. I don’t look back. I don’t ponder over the ifs and whys? I don’t think it matters. I don’t curse anyone. Nor do I regret life. But let me tell you this, I also feel I don’t have…

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Day 282: When Dad Left for his Maker

Imagining life without someone, when have we ever given that a thought? I was the same. But with you gone, life has taken an unexpected turn. I am now looking at things, I never gave a thought. I am reminiscing over events, that once craved my attention. I am lusting for certain aches, that once…

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Day 170: When Dad Left for his Maker

There are nights I wake up in a haze. My eyes travel to your rocking chair at the end of the room. Is it truly rocking or is it my mind playing tricks? It is difficult to say in the dark of the night. I stare hard and long as if staring longer would make…

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