Life has its own way of sending out frequent reminders on Bad Memories.
those that rip you apart. strike you down, replay the horrific scenes by sequence and put you through the same pain, fear and guilt you experienced years back.
Oh yes, life also does the same with Happiness Memories, but not as frequent as it should.
So was one such day, today, in the midst of a chaotic afternoon at work, from nowhere, my mind replayed scenes from my dad’s last day. well as embarrassing as it may sound, sitting in the midst of a 100 employees, you cant just explode.
While all I wanted to do was run as fast as I can to a place, humanS never walked before and cry out loud. nothing of this happened.
But I did cry.
Inside my head, Deep in my soul.
Somehow, I have mastered this art of ‘crying without tears’ after Dad detached himself from me.
Cry without tears, Laugh without a joke, talk without a person next to you, lie on plain floor and pretend it to be Dad’s lap, Hug and being hugged back by gentle breeze, Kiss the memories and slap that invisible fate.
All of this is humanely possible only by those who have experienced a loss that came as a shock. A shock that left them with a paralysed soul.
But yes, on a second thought, I have really stopped missing my Dad,
I used to be overwhelmed, when I see Facebook posts of my friends with their dads, hugging and laughing. I would tell myself, “Fake Fake, my dad was much better’ and look at the Sky and say ‘Not Fair’.
I used to stare at random girls, when they walk holding their dad’s hands. Tears would flood my eyes and I wouldn’t hide them. its so fresh in my memory, when dad slid his manly hard worked hands over my tiny fingers and we walked & chatted through the streets of Chennai.
When my colleagues used to talk to their dads, I used to scroll through my phone and call my dad’s number. I would be reminded by a kind stranger, that, that number is no longer in use. but so much pleasure in doing that and let go of giant like mute sobs.
But you know what, its been pretty much some time, since I cried for Dad.
Not because he is no more, but because there is more and more of him in my life than ever before.
when I lie on baby soft lap, when Ved gently pats me to sleep, I have screamed a thousand times. “Appa Appa, that’s appa’s touch”. that same touch, that same gentleness, that same divine peace.
His eyes, his smile, his small fat round nose, his screams, his grin, in his sleep, he is a perfect example of ‘Daddy turned Baby’.
Every time I miss dad, I look into my Son’s eyes, and I know, the once father, is for today and forever my son.
but I do miss him, at times, I need that grace to forgive, that angelic smile to cheer up, that tender voice to encourage, that extra push to be kind and firm prayers to take decision.
It is after his death, when I walk around looking at other ‘Dad’s’, I realize, my Dad was 1 in a Mankind. just like another’s.
A part of me departed with Appa, just like him, without much fanfare.
But, I know I am one of the most Blessed Woman, Because not every day, in every Woman’s life, Her dad, A Superhero, is Reborn !