Dearest Father
I never wanted to share my words with you this way, yet I am up with pen on this because you didn’t leave me any option other than this or partially because I am confined, to talk to you tete-a-tete, and reclusive.
In so far I remember, I never talked to you except formally at par with you. There is no memory of you treating me in any way. No happiness, no wrath, no grief, no concern or the least what I could ever figure out by seeing you was a wholesome void. You never kept this attitude to any other member in our family or to the society but you were the gregarious person. I never saw any initiative triggered on your side to bridge this gap with your son, to know at least what in my life, I was going through.
I am not a neglected or disowned child by my family and interestingly I am the apple of your wife’s eye and I am cared too much than I really deserve by your daughters but I can’t figure out why you always maintained this apathy to me which often surfaces a pang in my heart of being bête noire to you.
I recollect nothing like I ever abused you or refuted your concerns. I was always exasperated in seeking the reason for this numbness of you towards me. And to your numbness, I failed. I always watched children walking on the streets, hand in hand with their father, tempting towards toys, toffees and stubbornly asking for them. When father couldn’t afford any of those temptations of their child, I remember him slapping his child. I really enjoyed those little speculations and felt the father’s affinity towards his child. I always wished if I could ever feel the same in real. To your numbness, I failed. I dreamt of you lifting me up in your arms but when I woke up in reality, I failed.
Even when I am writing this, your numbness and my let- you- down deeds are capable enough to wet my eyes and restrict me to embrace you once, just once so that I could cry my heart borne grieves out on your shoulder. I just don’t know how to break this barrier and merge two different streams. If I couldn’t do this, I know, I am always going to repent my whole life. Initially, I thought it to be the generation gap but later I realized that feelings of love, affection are not bound to any generation. If this was the case, your daughters were no different than me.When they can embrace your love then why not I? I Hope someday you could open my laptop and read it because, I know, I am not brave enough to hand it to you personally. This time I want you to be the change and bring the change around.
On chimera with your love,
Your Prodigal Son.