Dear Papa,
Ashu is here visiting. He is now a big man. Working and hustling all on his own. Working and living in a big city all by himself. Today I asked him if he wanted cinnamon roll and he had it by warming milk and dunking and soaking it in. Aapki Jalebi and Dudh ki yaad aa gayi. Dil bhar gaya.
There are times when you see glimpses of people you live in other people you live. Is that family? Is that love? Is that projecting your context and love? Does it matter what it is?
Pyar ko pyar hi rehne de koi naam na do.
It is my birthday, according to IST. Are you there somewhere papa? Can you see me? Are you watching over me?
I miss you and think about you most days. I keep hearing that this gets better with time. The only thing that got better I think is that tears fall more freely. The knot in the throat is not painful. But that void is still there. I wonder if we meet again what will we talk about?
Did you really love me as much as I remember it?
Could you really read me as well as I think you did?
Does it matter what the truth was or is it more important what I felt and how I remember it?
Chuti Muti