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

Its been 6 months since I wrote to you. Your B'day, Mehr's B'day, New Year and your going away all of those days just rolled by in that order. I think with all that is happening in the world right now, we would have had soooo much to talk about.

Dhoni retired from test cricket and stepped down as captain, Trump won and is now the president; although not in that order.

There is so much that is happening that is bewildering and confusing. It would have been more enriching to have you around and bounce off ideas of. I know it sounds more casual than it feels. What I really want is some anchoring. I am the anchor for my kids but wen I want to look for mine I am not sure what that is?

I love you papa. I hope you are at peace where ever you are.

Mehr once said: Why do you worry about your daddy so much?

I dont know to this date what to answer and what she is asking. Didn't ask for any clarifications.

Love
Shruti

Dear papa,

I miss you a lot. Not everyday. In fact it catches me unawares and when it does its very gripping.
I have been meaning to write to you. I turned 36. Life has been fun. There were some decidedly high points in life and even though the day was exhausting I wanted to talk to someone and I was not able to figure out who is it that would have completed my day...

Until I realized I wanted to recount it all with you. Hear your voice and answer your questions and tell you how it all was.

This loss can be very paralyzing and the pain in that moment of realization is very acute and debilitating. Mostly because it is so final.

Till later.
With all my love
Chuti muti

Dear Papa,

There are so many people in the world that are alive but not you.

It is as stark as that.

I was feeding the first mango of the season to Mehr, just as you used to. I teared up.

I was listening to some songs and Mehr asked me to sing some song and I started and then my throat clogged and I choked on it.

Now you live in my memories. They come to me just as my kids do. Randomly and without notice. Sometimes they come running like Mehr or crawling like Dhruv and demand attention. Sometimes I have the luxury of time and sometimes not but that does not stop the onslaught.

Dhruv is One today. There is so much that is that I want to talk about with you. I have these conversations in my head. I forget if they are with me or with you. When it is all in your head it gets difficult to keep that straight.

Am I some of you? Or what I learned from you? Or what I can tie back to our memories together? Is that what immortality is about? Leaving pieces of yourself in people whose lives you touch?

There is very little in my life that I can not trace back to you. It all is mixed up jumbled up into a web together. Messy and tangled but very warm and snug all together.

Love

Me