Dear papa,

I feel hurt, angry, disillusioned and disappointed. I don't know if I am being petty or not. 

Dear Papa,

We are living in crazy times, confined to our homes, working and educating and learning to deal with the new normal from home. I miss you. Anytime that I see or read something that deeply resonates with me I think of you. Sharing it with you and then I am reminded by the stark realization that it will no longer be possible to do so. I have no recording of your voice. Your laugh, your smile and the way you called my name and how you always just knew how I was feeling with Hello.

If for nothing else I want to believe in afterlife and religion because I want to talk to you again, see you again and be with you again with all the shared context of our lives. I want to think and imagine that you are looking over me and looking at how I am doing life. If only there was a way to be in touch and to talk. At the end of the day if I could have that I would feel happier.

I should be glad and I am glad and grateful to have had this relationship with you. I just wish there was more time.

With love
Chuti-Muti

Dear Papa,

I wish you were here. I miss you when I want to share a triumph and I miss you when I am beaten down and hurting. I miss you anywhere in between that spectrum. Is it my imagination and projection that you could just pick up on my thoughts and mood with just the hello over the phone across all the distance?

Is it my imagination that your hand on my head and your hug could drive away every worry and fear and foe real or imaginary? There is no one in this world who would or could ever love me like you did and there is no one that I would love like I loved you.

With you a part of me that you brought out is also lost and sometimes I miss that part of me.
Lately I have been so very beaten and lost and needy that I don't know how I can crawl out of this space.

Death is the ultimate full stop. And now all that I have is regrets and memories.

I love you papa and I miss you very very much

Chuti-muti

Dear Papa,

I don't know if we would have had this conversation face to face but now that I am getting this opportunity then why not. I am in love, after what seems to be a very long time. This thing that I am so exhilarated with is my work front. I am loving this phase in my life. My work is appreciated and is instrumental in making things happen in context. My opinion is sought and heard and listened to. I manage and advise other people.

I know what is going on around me. I like the people that I am working with. I genuinely  ...

This is something I wrote but it never got sent. It was a draft that is just here. Got left behind. And as all good things come to an end this love affair seems to have ended and what I am left with is heart break. What I had to offer and what I did to bring up my new team was rejected. It is a step down. It feels like it.

This is not the first time it will happen either. Nor will this be the last time. I want to be in a place where I am not jaded enough that I do not put my heart into things that I am involved in. Where is the fun in that? I am sad and heartbroken but will that make me hold back? I certainly hope not. Will this make me toxic as a person? As I tell myself this is not the first or the last unfair thing that has happened or will happen.

I should have posted it when I was happy and excited. But it never made it out of the draft folder. Maybe this is the right time to put a closure on it. I want to leave this hurt behind and open my heart to another kind of hurt, something new to invest my emotions in. Get ready for my heart to broken again. Where is the fun in living if all we end up doing is protecting our heart? All it would do it keep it away from all joys and all kinds of fun, connection and true belonging.

I love you and miss you every day. I think you would have loved to see some of the things that I am doing and possibly would be proud of some of it.

Love
Shruti

Dear papa,

It has been so long since we last shared anything. Evan if it was a monologue from me. I came across these words:

"Do you have a magic spell to return someone to life?" She asked.
"No" the witch said. "I am sorry."
"Oh."
"Why don't you tell me about them?"
"Will that bring them back?"
"For us. For a little while. Stories are a different kind of magic."

I wish there was a way to describe what goes on in the brain when one thing triggers another and there is a whole cascade of re-collections or thoughts that come tumbling out into the bright sun rubbing their eyes surprised at themselves the most of having found them selves out into  the open.
Slightly embarrassed at being exposed.

Below all this grief and of loss and sometimes the pain of having lost you, I feel deeply grateful for having experienced an emotion as deep and having been loved by you. For being part of the family that you and mummy created and nurtured. I wish you were around to see some of what I am doing today. Maybe you would have been proud.

Love
Chuti-Muti

Dear Papa,

Did you know about Coke Studio when you were here? I don't know if we spoke about it or if it was big in my consciousness back then to even matter in our conversations. Now a days I listen to it a lot especially the seasons from Pakistan. I think you would have liked them too. Its easy to like music. There is so much in this world that I know because of you. Every little bit ever so often pops up and reminds me of something that you said or something we spoke about. Its a song you liked or a joke that you enjoyed or a phrase you used.

How can I introduce you to my kids? I still choke when I think of things that are about you. Today at work I got some trigger and I could not stop crying. I left work so that I could come home and work without having to necessarily hide my grief.

I was surprised to even feel it as strongly as I felt it.

We continue or be surprised by our emotions. I sometimes wonder how we fool ourselves day to day and what causes things to bubble over now and then.

I love you papa. I hope you are happy where ever you are. I wish we had clicked more pics last time we were together but we did not. I want to hear your voice.

Love
Shruti

Its been so long since I wrote to you. Mummy left for Blore today. Sometimes its easy to get angry with her, she never seems to instinctively get where I am and what I need and what I am thinking. But when she is gone, she takes a bit of life with her. It feels empty and it will continue to feel like this for some more time.

I wish you were here. I wish you could see where I am and what I am doing about now. So many questions I would have liked to ask you. So many conversations that did not happen. So many times I did not hear your smile in your voice and so many times I never said I love you.

Am I making the same mistakes again? With Ma?

Will I ever learn?

Does she know?

Did you know?

I never even said goodbye.


Shruti